Indu'd With Sanctity Of Reason.

For God Will Deign To Visit Oft The Dwellings Of Just Men -- Delighted, And With Frequent Intercourse -- Thither Will Send His Winged Messengers On Errants Of Supernal Grace.

O Fairest Flower! No Sooner Blown But Blasted, Soft Silken Primrose Fading Timelessly.

I Must Not Quarrel With The Will Of Highest Dispensation, Which Herein, Haply Had Ends Above My Reach To Know.

The Conquer'd, Also, And Enslaved By War, Shall, With Their Freedom Lost, All Virtue Lose.

Demoniac Frenzy, Moping Melancholy.