John Milton

And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their read more

And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.

Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

Who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.

Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise,
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To read more

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise,
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears,
And slits the thin-spun life.

Without his rod revers'd,
And backward mutters of dissevering power.

Without his rod revers'd,
And backward mutters of dissevering power.