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a morning sun gleamed gaily on the waters, looked no deeper than their smiling surface, -- prepared no chart for the rocks beneath, & then when the Winds rose on a sudden, -- when Clouds passed before the light of heaven, - then did I drift before the angry surge, & dashed on the sad Rock I [[underline]] encountered.-- [[/underline]] Macchiavelli says in his history of Florence -- [[foreign: Italian]] "non E mai savio partito far disperare gli Uomini,perché, -- chi non spera il bene, non [[underline]] teme [[/underline]] il male". [[/foreign]]