At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.
Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
Stand still, true poet that you are! I know you; let me try and draw you. Some night you'll fail us: when afar You rise, remember one man saw you, Knew you, and named a star!
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
Make us happy and you make us good.
God! Thou art love! I build my faith on that.