There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.

When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.

Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!

Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!

But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Generations pass while some tree stands, and old families last not three oaks.

Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.