Loading... Into this wild Abyss / The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave-- / Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, / But all these in their pregnant causes mixed/ Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, / Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain / His dark materials to create more worlds,-- / Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend / Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while,/ Pondering his voyage; for no narrow frith/ He had to cross.
The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven...
