Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.

Solitude is sometimes the best society.

Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.

Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?

Should God create another Eve, and I Another Rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart; no no, I feel The Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy State Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.

To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable.

The very essence of truth is plainness and brightness; the darkness and crookedness is our own. The wisdom of God created understanding, fit and proportionable to truth, the object and end of it, as the eye to the thing visible. If our understanding have a film of ignorance over it, or be blear with gazing on other false glitterings, what is that to truth?