Of four infernal rivers that disgorge/ Into the burning Lake their baleful streams;/Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,/Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;/Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud/ Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon/ Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage./ Far off from these a slow and silent stream,/ Lethe the River of Oblivion rolls/ Her wat'ry Labyrinth whereof who drinks,/ Forthwith his former state and being forgets,/ Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.

Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men; Unless there be who think not God at all.

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

His form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appear'd Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess Of glory obscur'd.

In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.

Laws can discover sin, but not remove it

With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.