John Milton

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.

O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
Thou read more

O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.

And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their read more

And in requital ope his leathern scrip,
And show me simples of a thousand names,
Telling their strange and vigorous faculties.

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt read more

Her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe
That all was lost.

Let his tormentor conscience find him out.

Let his tormentor conscience find him out.