His sleep Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens take his pleasure.
What call thou solitude? Is not the earth with various living creatures, and the air replenished, and all these at thy command to come and play before thee?
Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
Behold now this vast city [London]; a city of refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with His protection.