Abash'd The Devil Stood, And Felt How

Time Will Run Back And Fetch The Age Of Gold.

It Was That Fatal And Perfidious Bark, Built In Th' Eclipse, And Rigg'd With Curses Dark.

Virtue That Wavers Is Not Virtue, But Vice Revolted From Itself, And After A While Returning. The Actions Of Just And Pious Men Do Not Darken In Their Middle Course.

Long Is The Way And Hard, That Out Of Hell Leads Up To Light.

Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.