“Speaks he not of religion?”—“So he speaks,

When he the ruin of his victim seeks. 110

How smooth and gracious were his words, how sweet—

The fiend his master prompting his deceit!

Me he with kind instruction led to trust

In one who seem’d so grave, so kind, so just.

Books to amuse me, and inform, he brought,

Like that old serpent with temptation fraught;

His like the precepts of the wise appear’d,

Till I imbibed the vice I had not fear’d.