Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out.
John MiltonNow morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
John MiltonGod is thy law, thou mine: to know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time.
John Milton