As men are killed by fighting, the truth is lost in disputing

My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity; Before I taught my tongue to wound My conscience with a sinful sound, Or had the black art to dispense

There is in God — some say — A deep, but dazzling darkness; as men here Say it is late and dusky, because they See not all clear. O for that Night! where I in Him Might live invisible and dim!

Happy those early days, when I Shined in my angel-infancy! Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race.

Holy writing must strive (by all means) for perfection and true holiness, that a door may be opened to him in heaven.

Dear Night! this world's defeat; The stop to busy fools; care's check and curb; The day of spirits; my soul's calm retreat Which none disturb! Christ's progress, and His prayer-time; The hours to which high Heaven doth chime.

Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move.