/0/16649/coverbig.jpg?v=7e25b80b9142cf4ee9f752e4793d6b06)
Infernal offspring of the Night,
Debarr'd of heaven your native right,
And from the glorious fields of light,
Condemn'd in shades to drag the chain,
And fill with groans the gloomy plain;
Since pleasures here are none below,
Be ill our good, our joy be woe;
Our work t' embroil the worlds above,
Disturb their union, disunite
COPYRIGHT(©) 2022