弗兰克，会不会活得不漂亮?不要太相信波涛汹涌的大海;因为你的星，一定是由必然的事件计算出来的，请向镜中看看吧。在这里安歇，安享天年，在宁静的安祥之巢里，构筑你的命运;弗兰克，你就安安稳稳地躺下吧，跟海底的居民一样，在这变幻莫测的深海里呆着，不要惹什么麻烦;不，坚定地站着，仿佛发现了一块新发现的土地，适合在这里种植。梦吧，梦吧，睡在狄俄涅的摇篮里;做梦吧，直到恐惧唤醒了你的意识，你现在发现你自己成了风的消遣;在松散的忒提斯毯子撕裂和丢失。弗兰克，你为什么要牺牲自己?不要太自信，把自己固定在岸上;因为即使这样，也要借用她那富有的邻居的丰富资源，因为现在最聪明的人都知道(现在伽利略的判断是这样的)，软弱的大地本身也是脆弱的，无常的，摇摆不定的，就像我们放在深海上的污点一样，有时你会认为，那是改变了海底特性的; But this eternal, strange Ixion's wheel Of giddy earth ne'er whirling leaves to reel, Till all things are inverted, till they are Turn'd to that antick confus'd state they were. Who loves the golden mean, doth safely want A cobwebb'd cot and wrongs entail'd upon't; He richly needs a pallace for to breed Vipers and moths, that on their feeder feed; The toy that we (too true) a mistress call, Whose looking-glass and feather weighs up all; And cloaths which larks would play with in the sun, That mock him in the night, when 's course is run. To rear an edifice by art so high, That envy should not reach it with her eye, Nay, with a thought come neer it. Wouldst thou know, How such a structure should be raisd, build low. The blust'ring winds invisible rough stroak More often shakes the stubborn'st, prop'rest oak; And in proud turrets we behold withal, 'Tis the imperial top declines to fall: Nor does Heav'n's lightning strike the humble vales, But high-aspiring mounts batters and scales. A breast of proof defies all shocks of Fate, Fears in the best, hopes in worser state; Heaven forbid that, as of old, time ever Flourish'd in spring so contrary, now never. That mighty breath, which blew foul Winter hither, Can eas'ly puffe it to a fairer weather. Why dost despair then, Frank? Aeolus has A Zephyrus as well as Boreas. 'Tis a false sequel, soloecisme 'gainst those Precepts by fortune giv'n us, to suppose That, 'cause it is now ill, 't will ere be so; Apollo doth not always bend his bow; But oft, uncrowned of his beams divine, With his soft harp awakes the sleeping Nine. In strictest things magnanimous appear, Greater in hope, howere thy fate, then fear: Draw all your sails in quickly, though no storm Threaten your ruine with a sad alarm; For tell me how they differ, tell me, pray, A cloudy tempest and a too fair day?