And yet we know that there must have been a period when everything was void, or, in other words, when there was nothing. […] And twenty cagëd nightingales do sing.” […] “For Venus did but boast one only son, And rosy Cupid was that boasted one; He, uncontroll’d, thro’ heaven extends his sway, And gods and goddesses by turns obey.” […] “Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels And fly, like thought, from them to me again.” […] E’en in the circling flood refreshment craves And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves.”