Apostate, Still Thou Err'st, Nor

The Great Creator From His Work Returned Magnificent, His Six Days' Work, A World.

In Naked Beauty More Adorn'd, More Lovely Than Pandora.

Wild Above Rule Or Art, Enormous Bliss.

Take Heed Lest Passion Sway Thy Judgement To Do Aught, Which Else Free Will Would Not Admit.

Then Might Ye See Cowls, Hoods, And Habits With Their Wearers Tost And Flutter'd Into Rags; Then Reliques, Beads, Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls, The Sport Of Winds; All These Upwhirl'd Aloft Fly To The Rearward Of The World Far Off Into A Limbo Large And Broad, Since Called The Paradise Of Fools.