The world’s a prophecy of worlds to come.
Young.
The words of prophecy, those truths divine,
Which make that Heaven, if thou desire it, thine—
(Awful alternative! believed, beloved,
Thy glory—and thy shame if unimproved,)
Are never long vouchsafed, if pushed aside
With cold disgust, or philosophic pride.
Cowper.
But chief the Prophets glowed with full delight,