Satan; so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in heaven.
What am I pondering, you ask? So help me God, immortality.
Herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures, Russet lawns and fallows grey, Where the nibbling flocks do stray, Mountains on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
The Tree of Knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades High over-arch'd imbower.