And Every Shepherd Tells His Tale Under

Thus Belial, With Words Clothed In Reason's Garb, Counseled Ignoble Ease, And Peaceful Sloth, Not Peace.

The Leaf Was Darkish, And Had Prickles On It, But In Another Country, As He Said, Bore A Bright Golden Flow'r, But Not In This Soil; Unknown, And Like Esteem'd, And The Dull Swain Treads On It Daily With His Clouted Shoon.

The World Was All Before Them, Where To Choose Their Place Of Rest, And Providence Their Guide: They Hand In Hand, With Wandering Steps And Slow, Through Eden Took Their Solitary Way.

How Charming Is Divine Philosophy! Not Harsh And Crabbed, As Dull Fools Suppose, But Musical As Is Apollo's Lute, And A Perpetual Feast Of Nectar'd Sweets Where No Crude Surfeit Reigns

Praise From An Enemy Smells Of Craft.