The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space.

Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.

Nothing so difficult as a beginning In poesy, unless perhaps the end.

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.

I have simplified my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments; and, as it is the shortest and most agreeable and summary feeling imaginable, the first moment of an universal republic would convert me into an advocate for single and uncontradicted despotism. The fact is, riches are power, and poverty is slavery all over the earth, and one sort of establishment is no better, nor worse, for a people than another.