Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss.
To adore the conqueror, who now beholds Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood.
Morn, Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand Unbarr'd the gates of light.
His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.
Long is the way and hard, that out of hell leads up to light.
Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper.