Nor Think Thou With Wind Of æry

There Is No Truth Sure Enough To Justify Persecution.

License They Mean When They Cry Liberty; For Who Loves That, Must First Be Wise And Good.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East.

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.

This Is Servitude, To Serve The Unwise.