I.

The hardy Deed is done at last,
My Criminal Offensive Eye,
Pluckt out by Force, I've from me cast;
There do's the bleeding Rebel lie.

II.

No more ensnaring Images,
Let in by that persidious Gate,
Shall, by Surprize, my Bosom seize,
And guilty Passion there create.

III.

Now for my Hand! at one brave Stroke
'Tis gone, I spurn it with Disdain;
Its Guilt no more shall Heav'n provoke,
No more produce my inward Pain.

IV.

'Tis better far to enter so
Dismember'd into Heav'nly Bliss,
Than Healthful and Unmaim'd to go
Down to th' Infernal Black Abyss.