Man Hath His Daily Work Of Body

Thus Belial, With Words Clothed In Reason's Garb, Counseled Ignoble Ease, And Peaceful Sloth, Not Peace.

These Two Imparadised In One Another's Arms, The Happier Eden, Shall Enjoy Their Fill Of Bliss On Bliss.

Fame Is The Spur That The Clear Spirit Doth Raise. That Last Infirmity Of Noble Mind. To Scorn Delights, And Live Laborious Days.

Darkness Now Rose, As Daylight Sunk, And Brought In Low'ring Night Her Shadowy Offspring.

Still Paying, Still To Owe. Eternal Woe!