The Sick Rose
William Blake
O Rose, thou art sick,
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-from Songs of Experience
The conjunction of "joy" and "destroy" echoes Book IX of Paradise Lost, in which another flying enemy invades a paradise. Milton's epic is mostly unrhymed, but "destroy" and "joy" end consecutive lines in one of Satan's soliloquies.