It Was From Out The Rind Of

Our Two First Parents, Yet The Only Two Of Mankind, In The Happy Garden Placed, Reaping Immortal Fruits Of Joy And Love, Uninterrupted Joy, Unrivalled Love In Blissful Solitude.

Tower'd Cities Please Us Then, And The Busy Hum Of Men.

Hence, Loathèd Melancholy, Of Cerberus And Blackest Midnight Born, In Stygian Cave Forlorn, 'mongst Horrid Shapes, And Shrieks, And Sights Unholy.

O Dark, Dark, Dark, Amid The Blaze Of Noon, Irrecoverably Dark, Total Eclipse Without All Hope Of Day!

It Were A Journey Like The Path To Heaven, To Help You Find Them.