The Helmed Cherubim, And Sworded Seraphim, Are

From His Lips/not Words Alone Pleased Her.

If This Fail, The Pillar'd Firmament Is Rottenness, And Earth's Base Built On Stubble.

And Every Shepherd Tells His Tale Under The Hawthorn In The Dale.

For To Interpose A Little Ease, Let Our Frail Thoughts Dally With False Surmise.

The Sun To Me Is Dark And Silent As The Moon, When She Deserts The Night Hid In Her Vacant Interlunar Cave.