A Crown Golden In Show, Is But

Arm The Obdured Breast With Stubborn Patience As With Triple Steel.

These Are Thy Glorious Works Parent Of Good, Almighty, Thine This Universal Frame, Thus Wondrous Fair; Thy Self How Wondrous Then! Unspeakable, Who Sitst Above These Heavens To Us Invisible Or Dimly Seen In These Thy Lowest Works, Yet These Declare Thy Goodness Beyond Thought, And Power Divine: Speak Ye Who Best Can Tell, Ye Sons Of Light, Angels, For Ye Behold Him, And With Songs And Choral Symphonies, Day Without Night, Circle His Throne Rejoicing, Ye In Heav'n, On Earth Join All Ye Creatures To Extoll Him First, Him Last, Him Midst, And Without End.

With Eyes Of Conjugal Attraction Unreprov'd. Imparadised In One Another's Arms. With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time. And Feel That I Am Happier Than I Know.

Ink Is The Blood Of The Printing-press.

Our Two First Parents, Yet The Only Two Of Mankind, In The Happy Garden Placed, Reaping Immortal Fruits Of Joy And Love, Uninterrupted Joy, Unrivalled Love In Blissful Solitude.