John Milton

Good luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy birth
The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.

Good luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy birth
The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.

So on he fares, and to the border comes,
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns read more

So on he fares, and to the border comes,
Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green,
As with a rural mound, the champain head
Of a steep wilderness.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

That stone, . . .
Philosophers in vain so long have sought.

That stone, . . .
Philosophers in vain so long have sought.

Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed.

Man hath his daily work of body or mind
Appointed.