John Milton

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

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!

Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
read more

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size,
Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt read more

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe
That all was lost.