Multitudes must have unspoken meditations as well as I.Do we then mutually deceive?
Off masks, mankind, that I may know what warranty of fellowship with others, my own thoughts possess.

Why, upon this one theme, oh Oro! must all dissemble?
Our thoughts are not our own.

Whate'er it be, an honest thought must have some germ of truth.

But we must set, as flows the general stream; I blindly follow, where I seem to lead; the crowd of pilgrims is so great, they see not there is none to guide .-- It hinges upon this: Have we angelic spirits?
But in vain, in vain, oh Oro! I essay to live out of this poor, blind body, fit dwelling for my sightless soul.

Death, death:--blind, am I dead?
for blindness seems a consciousness of death.