My Own Mind Began To Grow, Watchful

Polluted By Crimes, And Torn By The Bitterest Remorse, Where Can I Find Rest But In Death?

Man," I Cried, "how Ignorant Art Thou In Thy Pride Of Wisdom!

Satan Has His Companions, Fellow-devils, To Admire And Encourage Him; But I Am Solitary And Detested.

You Seek For Knowledge And Wisdom As I Once Did; And I Ardently Hope That The Gratification Of Your Wishes May Not Be A Serpent To Sting You, As Mine Has Been.

A Truce To Philosophy!—life Is Before Me, And I Rush Into Possession. Hope, Glory, Love, And Blameless Ambition Are My Guides, And My Soul Knows No Dread. What Has Been, Though Sweet, Is Gone; The Present Is Good Only Because It Is About To Change, And The To Come Is All My Own.