Virtue In Distress, And Vice In Triumph

Moderate Sorrow Fits Vulgar Love, And For A Vulgar Man: But I Have Lov'd With Such Transcendent Passion, I Soar'd, At First, Quite Out Of Reason's View, And Now Am Lost Above It.

An Hour Will Come, With Pleasure To Relate Your Sorrows Past, As Benefits Of Fate.

All Flowers Will Droop In The Absence Of The Sun That Waked Their Sweets.

Having Mourned Your Sin, For Outward Eden Lost, Find Paradise Within.

But How Can Finite Grasp Infinity?