Satan; so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in heaven.
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks and rivers wide Towers and battlements it sees Bosom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighboring eyes.
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.
Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.