Oh! with what thoughts, thy hope, and my despair,
Abhorr’d annihilation! blasts the soul,
And wide extends the bounds of human woe! 650
Could I believe Lorenzo’s system true,
In this black channel would my ravings run:
“Grief from the future borrow’d peace, erewhile.
The future vanish’d! and the present pain’d!
Strange import of unprecedented ill!
Fall, how profound! Like Lucifer’s, the fall!
Unequal fate! his fall, without his guilt!