Poem 207 – While I Sit With Thee

For while I sit with thee, I seem in heaven

Milton, Paradise Lost, Book VIII, 210

Listen to the waters flowing merrily down the banks,
The rustling of the branches of the trees,
And how the rain from high above,
Drops down, colliding with the leaves,
Bouncing into the water with a splash,
And all the other raindrops plummet around us,
Until the bank on which we sit is turned to clay.
Though the river rises higher, I mind not a little rain,
For while I sit with thee I seem in heaven.


Dear readers,

Another Paradise Lost work (all of the ones today are). This quote comes from Adam to Raphael the angel – but considering the name of my blog, perhaps it was inevitable how I would take it.

The Hapless Neo-Romantic


Tell us what you thought, or if to you these words are naught.

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