So when primeval bliss through Eden stream'd
And young-ey'd innocence on pleasure beam'd,
With heedless joy the unsuspecting pair,
Revell'd in guiltless rapture, void of care.
Stung with the sight, the soul-ensnaring fiend,
Slav'ry's first author, with fell rancour grinn'd;
Fermenting envy swell'd the villain-thought—
How soon his kindred mates, with malice fraught,
Sin, Pain, and Death, would throw their shades between,
And blast with horror the delightful scene,