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,