John Milton

And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning praised
God and his works.

And touch'd their golden harps, and hymning praised
God and his works.

That stone, . . .
Philosophers in vain so long have sought.

That stone, . . .
Philosophers in vain so long have sought.

The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.

The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf read more

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon;What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder,Isle of Beauty, fare thee well! - Paradise Lost.

How charming is divine philosophy!
Not harsh, and crabbed, as full fools suppose,
But musical as is read more

How charming is divine philosophy!
Not harsh, and crabbed, as full fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.