“Ah, much deluded! lay asideThy threats, and anger misapplied!Art not afraid with sounds like theseTo offend, where thou canst not appease?Death is not (wherefore dream'st thou thus?)The son of night and Erebus:Not was of fell Erynnis bornOn gulfs where Chaos rules forlorn.But sent from God, his presence leaves,To gather home his ripen'd sheaves,To call encumber'd souls awayFrom fleshly bonds to boundless day,(As when the winged hours excited,And summon forth the morning light)And each to convoy to her placeBefore the Eternal Father's face.”

“Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind.”

“But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with thee Came not all hell broke loose?”

“Thou art my father, thou my author, thou my being gav'st me; whom should I obey but thee, whom follow?”

“How can I live without thee, how forego Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined, To live again in these wild woods forlorn?Should God create another Eve, and I Another rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart; no, no, I feel The link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh, Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy stateMine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.However, I with thee have fixed my lot, Certain to undergo like doom; if death Consort with thee, death is to me as life; So forcible within my heart I feel The bond of nature draw me to my own, My own in thee, for what thou art is mine; Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.”

“Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n,Father of Mercy and Grace, thou didst not doomSo strictly, but much more to pity incline:No sooner did thy dear and only SonPerceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail ManSo strictly, but much more to pity inclin'd,He to appease thy wrath, and end the strifeOf mercy and Justice in thy face discern'd,Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee satSecond to thee, offer'd himself to dieFor man's offence. O unexampl'd love,Love nowhere to be found less than Divine!Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy NameShall be the copious matter of my SongHenceforth, and never shall my Harp thy praiseForget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin.”

“How can I live without thee, how forgoeThy sweet Converse and Love so dearly joyn'd,To live again in these wilde Woods forlorn? Should God create another Eve, and IAnother Rib afford, yet loss of theeWould never from my heart; no no, I feelThe Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh,Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy StateMine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.”