Were made, in the whole world the countenance
Of nature was the same, all one, well named
Chaos, a raw and undivided mass,
Naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds
Of ill-joined elements compressed together.
Variant: We believe slowly when belief brings pain.
Variant: Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name.
Variant: Bear and endure: This sorrow will one day prove to be for your good.