Could the fair forms of Good and Truth discern:
Bats they became, that eagles were before;
And this they got by their Desire to Learn.
But we, their wretched offspring, what do we?
Do not we still taste of the fruit forbid?
Whiles, with fond fruitless curiosity,
In books profane we seek for knowledge hid?
What is this Knowledge but the sky-stol'n fire
For which the Thief still chained in ice doth sit,
And which the poor rude Satyr did admire,