No More Learning

My error was my error, and my crime
My crime;           for it self condemn'd
And will alike be punish'd; whether thou
Raign or raign not; though to that gentle brow
Willingly I could flye, and hope thy raign,
From that placid aspect and meek regard,
Rather then aggravate my evil state,
Would stand between me and thy Fathers ire,
(Whose ire I dread more then the fire of Hell,) 220
A shelter and a kind of shading cool
Interposition, as a summers cloud.