John Milton

A crown
Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns,
Bring dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless read more

A crown
Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns,
Bring dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights
To him who wears the regal diadem.

But O yet more miserable!
Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.

But O yet more miserable!
Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.

With thee conversing I forget all time:
All seasons and their change, all please alike.

With thee conversing I forget all time:
All seasons and their change, all please alike.

From morn
To moon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day; and with the read more

From morn
To moon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day; and with the setting sun
Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.

Impostor; do not charge most innocent Nature,
As if she would her children should be riotous
With read more

Impostor; do not charge most innocent Nature,
As if she would her children should be riotous
With her abundance; she, good cateress,
Means her provision only to the good,
That live according to her sober laws,
And holy dictate of spare temperance.