And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-- Il Penseroso, Line 39
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-- Il Penseroso, Line 39
Related:
- Forget thyself to marble.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
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Il Penseroso, Line... - Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek. -- John Milton... - And add to these retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line... - And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line... - Far from all resort of mirth
Save the cricket on the hearth.
John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line... - Hide me from day's garish eye.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-
Il Penseroso, Line... - Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold.
John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line... - Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly,
Most musical,
most melancholy! -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il... - The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-
Il Penseroso, Line...
