John Milton Poems

Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
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I

Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth,
Wherewith the stage of Air and Earth did ring,
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Perplexed and troubled at his bad success
The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,
Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope
So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric
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Who sickened in the time of his Vacancy, being forbid to go to London by reason of the Plague.


Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt,
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XII. On the same.

I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
By the known rules of antient libertie,
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Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti.


Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations
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All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued,
Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn,
Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand
Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave
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XIX

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
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Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of Heavenly Truth,
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Because you have thrown off your Prelate Lord,
And with stiff vows renounced his Liturgy,
To seize the widowed whore Plurality,
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred,
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