Language
John Milton
He who seeking asses found a kingdom.
The childhood shows the man,
The world was all before them, where to choose
But on occasion’s forelock watchful wait.
Flesh of flesh,
O fairest of creation, last and best
Hear all ye angels, progeny of light,
What if earth
But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with thee
With thee conversing I forget all time.
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
He for God only, she for God in him.
Long is the way
Who overcomes
The mind is its own place, and in itself
What in me is dark
Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
Time is our tedious song should here have ending.
At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue:
Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves.
Comes the blind Fury with th’ abhorrèd shears,
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
