Corruption.

SUre, It was so. Man in those early days
Was not all stone, and Earth,
He shin'd a little, and by those weak Rays
Had some glimpse of his birth.
He saw Heaven o'r his head, and knew from whence
He came (condemned,) hither,
And, as first Love draws strongest, so from hence
His mind sure progress'd thither.
Things here were strange unto him: Swet, and till
All was a thorn, or weed,
Nor did those last, but (like himself,) dyed still
As soon as they did Seed,
They seem'd to quarrel with him; for that Act
That fel him, foyl'd them all,
He drew the Curse upon the world, and Crackt
The whole frame with his fall.
This made him long for home, as loath to stay
With murmurers, and foes;
He sigh'd for Eden, and would often say
Ah! what bright days were those?
Nor was Heav'n cold unto him; for each day
The vally, or the Mountain
Afforded visits, and still Paradise lay
In some green shade, or fountain.
Angels lay Leiger here; Each Bush, and Cel,
Each Oke, and high-way knew them,
Walk but the fields, or sit down at some wil,
And he was sure to view them.
Almighty Love! where art thou now? mad man
Sits down, and freezeth on,
He raves, and swears to stir nor fire, nor fan,
But bids the thread be spun.
I see, thy Curtains are Close-drawn; Thy bow
Looks dim too in the Cloud,
Sin triumphs still, and man is sunk below
The Center, and his shrowd;
All's in deep sleep, and night; Thick darknes lyes
And hatcheth o'r thy people;
But hark! what trumpets that? what Angel cries
Arise! Thrust in thy sickle.