John Milton

Here lies old Hobson,
Death hath broke his girt,
And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one,

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing,
Heavenly Mus...

What needs my Shakespear for his honour'd Bones,
The labour of an age in piled Stones,
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be
Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid

Because you have thrown of your Prelate Lord,
And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy,
To seise the widow'd whore
From them whose sin ye envi'd, not abhorr'd,

High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat, by merit raised To that bad eminence; and, ...

Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more
Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere,
I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude

Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace;
And glut thy self with what thy womb devours,

Hence, vain deluding Joys,
The brood of Folly without father bred
How little you
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys

I
O fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken Primrose fading timeless lie,
Summers chief honour if thou hadst

Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Darby at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of State with this Song
I
Song
Look Nymphs, and ...

Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight
In Stygian cave forlorn'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy
Find out some uncouth cell,

I
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 r...