It never had created, but to bless:
And shall it, then, strike off the list of life,
A being bless’d, or worthy so to be?
Heaven starts at an annihilating God.
Is that, all Nature starts at, thy desire? 882
Art such a clod to wish thyself all clay?
What is that dreadful wish?—The dying groan
Of Nature, murder’d by the blackest guilt.
What deadly poison has thy nature drank?
To Nature undebauch’d no shock so great;