The Mind Is Its Own Place, And

For No Falsehood Can Endure Touch Of Celestial Temper.

This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light.

Nor Turned I Ween Adam From His Fair Spouse, Nor Eve The Rites Mysterious Of Connubial Love Refused: Whatever Hypocrites Austerely Talk Of Purity And Place And Innocence, Defaming As Impure What God Declares Pure, And Commands To Some, Leaves Free To All.

Unless An Age Too Late, Or Cold Climate, Or Years, Damp My Intended Wing.

So Many Laws Argues So Many Sins.