The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.
The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.
Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
Pandemonium, the high capital Of Satan and his peers.
Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.