John Milton

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.

The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.

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.

O welcome pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!

O welcome pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!