Cyriack, Whose Grandsire Poem by John Milton

Cyriack, Whose Grandsire

Rating: 2.9


Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause,
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench,
Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heaven a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Manna Macwan. 13 December 2017

It is amazing .I like it very much.

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Manna Macwan 13 December 2017

It is amazing.

0 0 Reply
Manna 13 December 2017

It is amazing

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John Milton

John Milton

London, England
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