Infinity Is A Dark Illimitable Ocean, Without

True It Is That Covetousness Is Rich, Modesty Starves.

And That Must End Us, That Must Be Our Cure: To Be No More. Sad Cure! For Who Would Lose, Though Full Of Pain, This Intellectual Being, Those Thoughts That Wander Through Eternity, To Perish, Rather, Swallowed Up And Lost In The Wide Womb Of Uncreated Night Devoid Of Sense And Motion?

Angels Contented With Their Face In Heaven, Seek Not The Praise Of Men.

And Now Without Redemption All Mankind Must Have Been Lost, Adjudged To Death And Hell By Doom Severe.

Which, If Not Victory, Is Yet Revenge.