The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.

As lines, so loves oblique, may well Themselves in every angle greet; But ours, so truly parallel, Though infinite, can never meet.

Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.

Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green glade ... Such was that happy garden-state.

I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.

What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head.

But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.