Midnight Shout And Revelry, Tipsy Dance And

A Boundless Continent, Dark, Waste, And Wild, Under The Frown Of Night Starless Expos'd.

Never Can True Reconcilement Grow Where Wounds Of Deadly Hate Have Pierced So Deep.

So Much I Feel My Genial Spirits Droop, My Hopes All Flat, Nature Within Me Seems In Her Functions Weary Of Herself.

Danger Will Wink On Opportunity.

That Power Which Erring Men Call Chance.