With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.

See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing.

If the will, which in the law of our nature, were withdrawn from our memory, fancy, understanding, and reason, no other hell could equal, for a spiritual being, what we should then feel from the anarchy of our powers. It would be conscious madness,--a horrid thought!

Nothing profits more than self-esteem, grounded on what is just and right.

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit/Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste/Brought death into the world, and all our woe,/With loss of Eden, till one greater Man/Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,/Sing heavenly muse

Heaven open'd wide Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges moving.

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.