Have Hung My Dank And Dropping Weeds

Myself, And All The Angelic Host, That Stand In The Sight Of God Enthroned, Our Happy State Hold, As You Yours, While Our Obedience Hold. On Other Surety None: Freely We Serve, Because We Freely Love.

But Infinite In Pardon Is My Judge.

Wherefore Did He [god] Create Passions Within Us, Pleasures Round About Us, But That These Rightly Tempered Are The Very Ingredients Of Virtue?

Rhime Being No Necessary Adjunct Or True Ornament Of Poem Or Good Verse, In Longer Works Especially, But The Invention Of A Barbarous Age, To Set Off Wretched Matter And Lame Meeter...the Troublesom And Modern Bondage Of Rimeing.

If This Fail, The Pillar'd Firmament Is Rottenness, And Earth's Base Built On Stubble.