Yet from those flames / No light, but rather darkness visible / Served only to discover sights of woe, / Regions of sorrow, doleful shades where peace / And rest can never dwell, hope never comes / That comes to all.
Darkness now rose, as daylight sunk, and brought in low'ring Night her shadowy offspring.
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light; Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting--since our present lot appears For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, If we procure not to ourselves more woe.
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?
Yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible.
Dark with excessive bright.
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light.
Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.
The martyrs shook the powers of darkness with the irresistible power of weakness.