Fame Is The Spur That The Clear

And, When Night Darkens The Streets, Then Wander Forth The Sons Of Belial, Flown With Insolence And Wine.

But All Was False And Hollow; Though His Tongue Dropp'd Manna, And Could Make The Worse Appear The Better Reason, 4 To Perplex And Dash Maturest Counsels.

From Haunted Spring And Dale Edg'd With Poplar Pale The Parting Genius Is With Sighing Sent.

Which Way I Fly Is Hell; Myself Am Hell.

If This Fail, The Pillar'd Firmament Is Rottenness, And Earth's Base Built On Stubble.