John Milton

Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.

Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.

These eyes, tho' clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing read more

These eyes, tho' clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot,
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.

There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam read more

There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.

This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of read more

This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring,
For so the holy sages once did sing,
That He our deadly forfeit should release,
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.

For smiles from reason flow
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.

For smiles from reason flow
To brute deny'd, and are of love the food.