See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing.

Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers; nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was headlong sent with his industrious crew to build in hell.

And the earth self-balanced on her centre hung.

Truth is compared in Scripture to a streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in perpetual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition.

Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.

Arms on armour clashing bray'd Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots rag'd: dire was the noise Of conflict.

Virtue, which breaks through opposition and all temptation can remove, most shines, and most is acceptable above.