The Hungry Sheep Look Up, And Are

And To Thy Husband's Will Thine Shall Submit; He Over Thee Shall Rule.

Where Peace And Rest Can Never Dwell, Hope Never Comes, That Comes To All.

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.

Our Torments Also May In Length Of Time Become Our Elements.

No Mighty Trance, Or Breathed Spell Inspires The Pale-eyed Priest From The Prophetic Cell.