Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
Sweet bird, that shun the noise of folly, most musical, most melancholy!
Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
And out of good still to find means of evil.
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.