One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, beyond the bliss of dreams.

Arms on armour clashing bray'd Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots rag'd: dire was the noise Of conflict.

Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions, mixed with love and sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned union of mind, or in us both one soul.

And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, consult how we may henceforth most offend.

None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license.

A bevy of fair women.