John Milton

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.

Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.

Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote.

There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.

There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

For I no sooner in my heart divin'd
My heart, which by a secret harmony
Still moves read more

For I no sooner in my heart divin'd
My heart, which by a secret harmony
Still moves with thine, joined in connection sweet.