Death ready stands to interpose his dart.

Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.

These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.

By a certain fate, great acts, and great eloquence have most commonly gone hand in hand, equalling and honoring each other in the same ages.

See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing.

Let us go forth and resolutely dare with sweat of brow to toil our little day.

They are the troublers, they are the dividers of unity, who neglect and don't permit others to unite those dissevered pieces which are yet wanting to the body of Truth.