Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot.
And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out; the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.
Doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is.
Oft from new truths, and new phrase, new doubts grow, As strange attire aliens the men we know.
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