I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): "Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'"
Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!
What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
Who knows but the world may end tonight