Heaven open'd wide Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges moving.
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell.
The never-ending flight Of future days.
And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.
Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble Education; laborious indeed at first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.