To Overcome In Battle, And Subdue Nations,

The Tree Of Knowledge Grew Fast By, Knowledge Of Good Bought Dear By Knowing Ill.

Fairest Of Stars, Last In The Train Of Night, If Better Thou Belong Not To The Dawn.

Hide Me From Day's Garish Eye, While The Bee With Honied Thigh, That At Her Flowery Work Doth Sing, And The Waters Murmuring With Such Consort As They Keep, Entice The Dewy-feathered Sleep.

I Sung Of Chaos And Eternal Night, Taught By The Heav'nly Muse To Venture Down The Dark Descent, And Up To Reascend.

His Words, Like So Many Nimble And Airy Servitors, Trip About Him At Command. Ibid.