Give Me The Liberty To

O Welcome Pure-eyed Faith, White Handed Hope, Thou Hovering Angel Girt With Golden Wings.

Tower'd Cities Please Us Then, And The Busy Hum Of Men.

Our Torments Also May In Length Of Time Become Our Elements.

O Fairest Of Creation, Last And Best Of All God's Works, Creature In Whom Excelled Whatever Can To Sight Or Thought Be Formed, Holy, Divine, Good, Amiable, Or Sweet! How Art Thou Lost, How On A Sudden Lost, Defaced, Deflow'red, And Now To Death Devote? Paradise Lost

The Teachers Of Our Law, And To Propose What Might Improve My Knowledge Or Their Own.