The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

The strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.

That virtue therefore which is but a youngling in the contemplation of evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her followers, and rejects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure; her whiteness is but an excremental whiteness.

Ah, why should all mankind For one man's fault, be condemned, If guiltless?

And that must end us, that must be our cure: To be no more. Sad cure! For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish, rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night Devoid of sense and motion?

These two imparadised in one another's arms, the happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill of bliss on bliss.

For contemplation he and valour formed; / For softness she and sweet attractive grace, / He for God only, she for God in him: / His fair large front and eye sublime declared / Absolute rule.