From Morn To Noon He Fell, From

Now I See Peace To Corrupt No Less Than War To Waste.

So Scented The Grim Feature, And Upturn'd His Nostril Wide Into The Murky Air, Sagacious Of His Quarry From So Far.

Darkness Now Rose, As Daylight Sunk, And Brought In Low'ring Night Her Shadowy Offspring.

That Virtue Therefore Which Is But A Youngling In The Contemplation Of Evil, And Knows Not The Utmost That Vice Promises To Her Followers, And Rejects It, Is But A Blank Virtue, Not A Pure; Her Whiteness Is But An Excremental Whiteness.

His Sleep Was Aery Light, From Pure Digestion Bred.