Ease Would Recant Vows Made In Pain,

Chaos Umpire Sits And By Decision More Embroils The Fray By Which He Reigns: Next Him High Arbiter Chance Governs All.

My Mansion Is, Where Those Immortal Shapes Of Bright Aerial Spirits Live Insphered In Regions Mild Of Calm And Serene Air, Above The Smoke And Stir Of This Dim Spot Which Men Call Earth.

None But Such As Are Good Men Can Give Good Things, And That Which Is Not Good, Is Not Delicious To A Well-govern'd And Wise Appetite.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.

So Dear To Heaven Is Saintly Chastity, That, When A Soul Is Found Sincerely So, A Thousand Liveried Angels Lacky Her, Driving Far Off Each Thing Of Sin And Guilt.