Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
The starry cope Of heaven.
Farewell happy fields, Where joy forever dwells: Hail, horrors, hail.
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.