Hail, wedded love, mysterious law; true source of human happiness.
The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
What in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support, That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men. 1 Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 22.
Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
Me miserable! Which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep,
Still threat’ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep,
Still threat’ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
Death Grinn’d horrible a ghastly smile, to hear His famine should be fill’d.
Now came still evening on; and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to they grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
Into this wild abyss, The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave.
Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
Better to reign in hell than serve in heav’n.
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.
The never-ending flight Of future days.
Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
