To see great minds baffling an evil fate,
Delights, and urges on to emulous deeds;
Yet, seems it only Nature’s tricksome state,
Defeating self, by livelier-quickening seeds;
The mind conquers base thoughts by its own power,
Then thinks it much, that its true self prevails;
Yet Nature tempers all things, even the flower
That stoops to winter, or that scorns his flails;
But, when young, godlike innocence arises,
He will not flinch, nor shudder, nor conspire;
His perfect purpose shatters faint surmises,
And brightly burns, ascending ever higher:
Conquered, at length, by his too great devotion,
He learns he lives in nought, and kills emotion.