John Milton

If this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,
And earth's base built on stubble.

If this fail,
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,
And earth's base built on stubble.

Thus does the white swan, as he lies on the wet grass, when the
Fates summon him, sing at read more

Thus does the white swan, as he lies on the wet grass, when the
Fates summon him, sing at the fords of Maeander.

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.

By merit raised
To that bad eminence.

By merit raised
To that bad eminence.

Luck is the residue of design.

Luck is the residue of design.