Paradise Lost by John Milton
page 193 of 354 (54%)
page 193 of 354 (54%)
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Of Trumpet (for of Armies thou hast heard)
Troop to thir Standard, so the watrie throng, Wave rowling after Wave, where way they found, If steep, with torrent rapture, if through Plaine, Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them Rock or Hill, But they, or under ground, or circuit wide With Serpent errour wandring, found thir way, And on the washie Oose deep Channels wore; Easie, e're God had bid the ground be drie, All but within those banks, where Rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw thir humid traine. The dry Land, Earth, and the great receptacle Of congregated Waters he call'd Seas: And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth Put forth the verdant Grass, Herb yeilding Seed, And Fruit Tree yeilding Fruit after her kind; Whose Seed is in her self upon the Earth. He scarce had said, when the bare Earth, till then Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd, Brought forth the tender Grass, whose verdure clad Her Universal Face with pleasant green, Then Herbs of every leaf, that sudden flour'd Op'ning thir various colours, and made gay Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown, Forth flourish't thick the clustring Vine, forth crept The smelling Gourd, up stood the cornie Reed Embattell'd in her field: add the humble Shrub, And Bush with frizl'd hair implicit: last Rose as in Dance the stately Trees, and spred Thir branches hung with copious Fruit; or gemm'd |
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