John Milton

Yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible.

Yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible.

That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat; descent and fall
To give read more

That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat; descent and fall
To give us is adverse.

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!

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence read more

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to they grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.

Peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war.

Peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war.