Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of Paradise, that has surviv'd the
fall! Tho' few do taste thee unimpair'd and pure, Or tasting, long enjoy
thee! too infirm, Or too incautious to preserve thy sweets Unmix'd with
drops of bitter, which neglect Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup;
Thou art the nurse of virtue; in thine arms She smiles, appearing, as in
truth she is, Heaven-born, and destin'd to the skies again.