What, though thou art false, ignorant, weak and daring,—
Can the sun be quenched in heaven—or only Belisarius be blind?
But, even stooping to thy folly, grant all these hopes are vain;
Stultify reason, wrestle against conscience, and wither up the heart:
Where is thy vast advantage?—I have all that thou hast,
The buoyancy of life as strong, and term of days no shorter;
My cup is full with gladness, my griefs are not more galling:
And thus, we walk together, even to the gates of death:
There, (if not also on my journey, blessing every step,
Gladdening with light, and quickening with love, and killing all my cares,)