Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And

Hung Over Her Enamour'd, And Beheld Beauty, Which, Whether Waking Or Asleep, Shot Forth Peculiar Graces.

Where There Is Much Desire To Learn, There Of Necessity Will Be Much Arguing, Much Writing, For Opinion In Good Men Is But Knowledge In The Making.

Truth Is Compared In Scripture To A Streaming Fountain; If Her Waters Flow Not In Perpetual Progression, They Sicken Into A Muddy Pool Of Conformity And Tradition.

But Hail Thou Goddess Sage And Holy, Hail, Divinest Melancholy, Whose Saintly Visage Is Too Bright To Hit The Sense Of Human Sight, And Therefore To Our Weaker View O'erlaid With Black, Staid Wisdom's Hue.

Nor Jealousy Was Understood, The Injur'd Lover's Hell.