John Milton

Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.

Swings the scaly horror of his folded tail.

His form had yet not lost
All his original brightness, not appear'd
Less than arch-angel ruined, and read more

His form had yet not lost
All his original brightness, not appear'd
Less than arch-angel ruined, and th' excess
Of glory obscured.

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, read more

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need Either man's work, or His own gifts. Who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.".

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.

But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high read more

But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight;
Casting a dim religious light.