My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.

The sacred influence of light appears.

Behold now this vast city [London]; a city of refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with His protection.

And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained?

A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.

Be lowly wise: Think only what concerns thee and thy being.

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all; but torture without end.