And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
Earth has not anything to show more fair.
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty; more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams.
We murder to dissect.
May books and nature be their early joy!