Hope Allows Us To Bid Farewell To

Our Two First Parents, Yet The Only Two Of Mankind, In The Happy Garden Placed, Reaping Immortal Fruits Of Joy And Love, Uninterrupted Joy, Unrivalled Love In Blissful Solitude.

With A Smile That Glow'd Celestial Rosy Red, Love's Proper Hue.

He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills Reason Itself.

Must I Thus Leave Thee, Paradise?-thus Leave Thee, Native Soil, These Happy Walks And Shades?

Forget Thyself To Marble.