So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.

All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.

Tower'd cities please us then, And the busy hum of men.

I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death.

How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!

There are no songs comparable to the songs of Zion, no orations equal to those of the prophets, and no politics like those which the Scriptures teach.

Where all life dies death lives.