Into This Wild Abyss, The Womb Of

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.

Now Came Still Evening On; And Twilight Gray Had In Her Sober Livery All Things Clad: Silence Accompanied; For Beast And Bird, They To They Grassy Couch, These To Their Nests, Were Slunk, All But The Wakeful Nightingale.

Vain Wisdom All, And False Philosophy.

In God's Intention, A Meet And Happy Conversation Is The Chiefest And Noblest End Of Marriage.

True It Is That Covetousness Is Rich, Modesty Starves.