Chaos umpire sits, And by decision more embroils the fray By which he reigns: next him, high arbiter, 910 Chance governs all. Into this wild Abyss, The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, 915 Unless th’ Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds—
