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Show ADAM AGONY All is not best. We covet, riot, burn and slay, And butt our heads on His behest, Drench ourselves in wars' dark blood. Even nobler works betray, Rip the mountain's shoulder, shroud The view, and dredge the sea of treasure. Wings make clabber of the cloud. The steady thud Of falling man since Adam's fall Makes thunder on the land, as each One bites the apple, loses Eden, Spurns the better way to reach The throne of love by tender choice. But in the end, his will not mocked, His hand will close upon us all. (Rebuttal: Milton's Sampson Agonistes.) |