Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love.

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb, counseled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth, not peace.

Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces.

So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.

Where shame is, there is also fear.

She what was honour knew, And with obsequious majesty approv'd My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven And happy constellations on that hour Shed their selectest influence; the earth Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.

To live a life half dead, a living death.