As he our darkness, cannot we his Light

Imitate when we please? This Desart soile [ 270 ]

Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold;

Nor want we skill or Art, from whence to raise

Magnificence; and what can Heavn shew more?

Our torments also may in length of time

Become our Elements, these piercing Fires [ 275 ]

As soft as now severe, our temper changd

Into their temper; which must needs remove

The sensible of pain. All things invite

To peaceful Counsels, and the settld State

Of order, how in safety best we may [ 280 ]

Compose our present evils, with regard

Of what we are and were, dismissing quite

All thoughts of warr: ye have what I advise.

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