John Milton

How often from the steep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the read more

How often from the steep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the midnight air,
Sole, or responsive each to other's note,
Singing their great Creator?

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear
read more

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels.

Under spreading ensigns moving nigh, in slow
But firm battalion.

Under spreading ensigns moving nigh, in slow
But firm battalion.

I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of read more

I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death.

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,
read more

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,
Forget not.