Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
John MiltonMust I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?
John MiltonFor neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone.
John Milton