Among The Blind The One-eyed

Had We But World Enough, And Time, This Coyness, Lady, Were No Crime.

How Fit He Is To Sway That Can So Well Obey.

See How The Orient Dew, Shed From The Bosom Of The Morn Into The Blowing Roses, Yet Careless Of Its Mansion New; For The Clear Region Where 'twas Born Round In Its Self Encloses: And In Its Little Globes Extent, Frames As It Can Its Native Element.

The World In All Doth But Two Nations Bear- The Good, The Bad; And These Mixed Everywhere.

Twas Beyond A Mortal's Share To Wander Solitary There: Two Paradises 'twere In One To Live In Paradise Alone.