O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant, Mother of Science, Now I feel thy Power Within me cleere, not onely to discerne Things in thir Causes, but to trace the wayes Of highest Agents, deemd however wise.

Queen of this Universe, doe not believe Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die: How should ye?
by the Fruit?
it gives you Life To Knowledge?
By the Threatner, look on mee, Mee who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live, And life more perfet have attaind then Fate Meant mee, by ventring higher then my Lot.

Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast Is open?
or will God incense his ire For such a pretty Trespass, and not praise Rather your dauntless vertue, whom the pain Of Death denounc't, whatever thing Death be, Deterrd not from atchieving what might leade To happier life, knowledge of Good and Evil; Of good, how just?
of evil, if what is evil Be real, why not known, since easier shunnd?
God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; Not just, not God; not feard then, nor obeid: Your feare it self of Death removes the feare.

Why then was this forbid?
Why but to awe, Why but to keep ye low and ignorant, His worshippers; he knows that in the day Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere, Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods, Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.

That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man, Internal Man, is but proportion meet, I of brute human, yee of human Gods.