The Poetical Works of John Milton


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Or if I would delight my private hours  
With Music or with Poem, where so soon  
As in our native Language can I find  
That solace? All our Law and Story strew'd  
With Hymns, our Psalms with artful terms inscrib'd,  
Our Hebrew Songs and Harps in Babylon,  
That pleas'd so well our Victors ear, declare  
That rather Greece from us these Arts deriv'd;  
Ill imitated, while they loudest sing  
The vices of thir Deities, and thir own  
340  
In Fable, Hymn, or Song, so personating  
Thir Gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame.  
Remove their swelling Epithetes thick laid  
As varnish on a Harlots cheek, the rest,  
Thin sown with aught of profit or delight,  
Will far be found unworthy to compare  
With Sion's songs, to all true tasts excelling,  
Where God is prais'd aright, and Godlike men,  
The Holiest of Holies, and his Saints;  
Such are from God inspir'd, not such from thee;  
Unless where moral vertue is express't  
By light of Nature not in all quite lost.  
Thir Orators thou then extoll'st, as those  
The top of Eloquence, Statists indeed,  
And lovers of thir Country, as may seem;  
But herein to our Prophets far beneath,  
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695 696 697 698 699

Quick Jump
1 198 395 593 790