John Milton

And the gilded car of day,
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream.

And the gilded car of day,
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream.

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears read more

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.

Adam, well may we labour, still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower.

That golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.

That golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.