John Milton

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

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

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

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.

The work under our labour grows
Luxurious by restraint.

The work under our labour grows
Luxurious by restraint.

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?