Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.

But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.

It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.

Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where with her best nurse Contemplation She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day; But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the midday sun.

Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.

Then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A Paradise within thee, happier far.