Sable-vested Night, eldest of things.
Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures, Russet lawns and fallows grey, Where the nibbling flocks do stray, Mountains on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
This is servitude, To serve the unwise.