I Hate When Vice Can

To Adore The Conqueror, Who Now Beholds Cherub And Seraph Rolling In The Flood.

Darkness Now Rose, As Daylight Sunk, And Brought In Low'ring Night Her Shadowy Offspring.

Sweet Is The Breath Of Morn, Her Rising Sweet, With Charm Of Earliest Birds.

Perplexed And Troubled At His Bad Success The Tempter Stood, Nor Had What To Reply, Discovered In His Fraud, Thrown From His Hope.

Death Ready Stands To Interpose His Dart.