Temo Che Per Morir. I Fear That By My Death The Human Race Would Gain No Vantage. Thus I Do Not Die. So Wide Is This Vast Cage Of Misery That Flight And Change Lead To No Happier Place. Shifting Our Pains, We Risk A Sorrier Case: All Worlds, Like Ours, Are Sunk In Agony: Go Where We Will, We Feel; And This My Cry I May Forget Like Many An Old Disgrace. Who Knows What Doom Is Mine? The Omnipotent Keeps Silence; Nay, I Know Not Whether Strife Or Peace Was With Me In Some Earlier Life. Philip In A Worse Prison Me Hath Pent These Three Days Past--But Not Without God'S Will. Stay We As God Decrees: God Doth No Ill.