By gates of Eden, Angel, gentle, Shone with his softly drooped head, And Demon, gloomy and resentful Over the hellish crevasse flapped. The spirit of qualm and negation Looked at another one — of good, And fire of the forced elation First time he vaguely understood. “I’ve seen you,” he enunciated, — “And not in vain you’ve sent me light: Not all in heaven I have hated, Not all in world I have despised.”

Alexander Pushkin.