John Milton

Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell,
. . . .
And boldly venture to read more

Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell,
. . . .
And boldly venture to whatever place
Farthest from pain?

Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your read more

Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.

But zeal moved thee;
To please thy gods thou didst it!

But zeal moved thee;
To please thy gods thou didst it!

Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.

Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.

This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of read more

This is 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.