A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses

Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

Let us descend now therefore from this top Of speculation.

Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.

The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.

But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.