That, when a soul is found sincerely so,

A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 455

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,

And in clear dream and solemn vision

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear;

Till oft converse with heavenly habitants

Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 460

The unpolluted temple of the mind,

And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence,

Till all be made immortal. But, when lust,