The Poetical Works of John Milton |
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Page 9
4 Defend the poor and desolate , And rescue from the hands Of wicked men the
low estate Of him that help demands . 5 They know not , nor will understand ; In
darkness they walk on ; The earth's foundations all are moved , And 6 out of order
...
4 Defend the poor and desolate , And rescue from the hands Of wicked men the
low estate Of him that help demands . 5 They know not , nor will understand ; In
darkness they walk on ; The earth's foundations all are moved , And 6 out of order
...
Page 17
50 13 For great thy mercy is toward me , And thou hast freed my soul , Ev'n from
the lowest hell set free , From deepest darkness foul . 14 O God , the proud
against me rise , And violent men are met To seek my life , and in their eyes No
fear of ...
50 13 For great thy mercy is toward me , And thou hast freed my soul , Ev'n from
the lowest hell set free , From deepest darkness foul . 14 O God , the proud
against me rise , And violent men are met To seek my life , and in their eyes No
fear of ...
Page 19
6 Thou , in the lowest pit profound , Hast set me all forlorn , Where thickest
darkness hovers round , In horrid deeps to mourn . 7 Thy wrath , from which no
shelter saves , Full sore doth press on me ; 2 Thou break'st upon me all thy
waves , 2 ...
6 Thou , in the lowest pit profound , Hast set me all forlorn , Where thickest
darkness hovers round , In horrid deeps to mourn . 7 Thy wrath , from which no
shelter saves , Full sore doth press on me ; 2 Thou break'st upon me all thy
waves , 2 ...
Page 20
12 In darkness can thy mighty hand Or wondrous acts be known ? Thy justice in
the gloomy land Of dark oblivion ? 13 But I to thee , O Lord , do cry Ere yet my life
be spent ; And up to thee my prayer doth hie Each morn , and thee prevent .
12 In darkness can thy mighty hand Or wondrous acts be known ? Thy justice in
the gloomy land Of dark oblivion ? 13 But I to thee , O Lord , do cry Ere yet my life
be spent ; And up to thee my prayer doth hie Each morn , and thee prevent .
Page 26
Wearied I am with sighing out my days ; Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ;
My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye Through grief consumes , is waxen old
and dark I ' the midst of all mine enemies that mark . Depart , all ye that work ...
Wearied I am with sighing out my days ; Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ;
My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye Through grief consumes , is waxen old
and dark I ' the midst of all mine enemies that mark . Depart , all ye that work ...
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