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 I. 
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 V. 
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 VIII. 
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Thus far all Nature calls on thy belief.
And will Lorenzo, careless of the call,
False attestation on all Nature charge,
Rather than violate his league with Death?
Renounce his reason, rather than renounce
The dust beloved, and run the risk of heaven?
O what indignity to deathless souls!
What treason to the majesty of man,
Of man immortal hear the lofty style:—
“If so decreed, the' almighty will be done.
Let earth dissolve, yon ponderous orbs descend,
And grind us into dust: the soul is safe;
The man emerges; mounts above the wreck.
As towering flame from Nature's funeral pyre;

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O'er Devastation, as a gainer, smiles;
His charter, his inviolable rights,
Well-pleased to learn from Thunder's impotence,
Death's pointless darts, and Hell's defeated storms.”