Only this I know, That one celestial father gives to all.
That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.
Praise from an enemy smells of craft.
Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss.
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell >From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd In vision beatific.