Nor From Hell One Step

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.

They, Looking Back, All The Eastern Side Beheld Of Paradise, So Late Their Happy Seat, Waved Over By That Flaming Brand, The Gate With Dreadful Faces Thronged And Fiery Arms: Some Natural Tears They Dropped, But Wiped Them Soon; 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.

All Hope Is Lost Of My Reception Into Grace; What Worse? For Where No Hope Is Left, Is Left No Fear.

I Did But Prompt The Age To Quit Their Clogs By The Known Rules Of Ancient Liberty, When Straight A Barbarous Noise Environs Me Of Owls And Cuckoos, Asses, Apes And Dogs.

Promiscuous Reading Is Necessary To The Constituting Of Human Nature. The Attempt To Keep Out Evil Doctrine By Licensing Is Like The Exploit Of That Gallant Man Who Thought To Keep Out The Crows By Shutting The Park Gate.