John Milton ( 10 of 239 )
But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be read more
But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be fled, or thou than theyLess hardy to endure? Courageous chief,The first in flight from pain, hadst thou allegedTo thy deserted host this cause of flight,Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. - Paradise Lost.
That golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.
That golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
By merit raised
To that bad eminence.
By merit raised
To that bad eminence.
Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise.
Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise.
CHRISTMAS DAY ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY This the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son read more
CHRISTMAS DAY ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY This the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. That glorious form, that light insufferable, And that far-beaming blaze majesty, Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table To sit the midst of Trinal Unity He laid aside, and, here with us to be. Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, To welcome him to this his new abode, Now while the heaven, by the Sun's team untrod, Hath took no print of the approaching light, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? See how from far upon the eastern road The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet! Oh, run! present them with thy humble ode, And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the Angel Quire, From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire.
O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, read more
O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age!
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
