John Milton

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, read more

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age!

So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.

So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.

I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of read more

I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death.

So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity,
That, when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand read more

So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity,
That, when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.

Peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war.

Peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war.