Creative Writing Nifty Poem

L'Allegro
by John Milton

HENCE, loathed Melancholy
............Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight bor
In Stygian cave forlor
............'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sight
unholy
Find out some uncouth cell
............Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings
And the night-raven sings
............There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks
As ragged as thy locks
............In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell
But come, thou Goddess fair and free
In heaven yclept Euphrosyne
And by men heart-easing Mirth
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth
With two sister Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore
Or whether (as some sager sing
The frolic wind that breathes the spring
Zephyr, with Aurora pIaying
As he met her once a-Maying
There, on beds of violets blue
And fresh-blown roses washed in dew
Filled her with thee,. a daughter fair
So buxom, blithe, and debonair
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with the
Jest, and youthful Jollity
Quips and cranks and wanton wiles
Nods and becks and wreathed smile
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek
And love to live in dimple sleek
Sport that wrinkled Care derides
And Laughter holding both his sides
Come, and trip it, as you go
On the light fantastic toe
And in thy right hand lead with the
The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty
And, if I give thee honour due
Mirth, admit me of thy crew
To live with her, and live with thee
In unreproved pleasures free
To hear the lark begin his flight
And, singing, startle the dull night
From his watch-tower in the skies
Till the dappled dawn doth rise
Then to come, in spite of sorrow
And at my window bid good-morrow
Through the sweet-briar or the vine
Or the twisted eglantine
While the ****, with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin
And to the stack, or the barn-door
Stoutly struts his dames before
Oft listening how the hounds and hor
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn
From the side of some hoar hill
Through the high wood echoing shrill
Sometime walking, not unseen
By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green
Right against the eastern gat
Where the great Sun begins his state
Robed in flames and amber light
The clouds in thousand liveries dight
While the ploughman, near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrowed land
And the milkmaid singeth blithe
And the mower whets his scythe
And every shepherd tells his tal
Under the hawthorn in the dale
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilst the landskip round it measures
Russet lawns, and fallows grey
Where the nibbling flocks do stray
Mountains on whose barren breas
The labouring clouds do often rest
Meadows trim, with daisies pied
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide
Towers and battlements it see
Bosomed high in tufted trees
Where perhaps some beauty lies
The cynosure of neighbouring eyes
Hard by a cottage chimney smoke
From betwixt two aged oaks
Where Corydon and Thyrsis me
Are at their savoury dinner se
Of herbs and other country messes
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses
And then in haste her bower she leaves
With Thestylis to bind the sheaves
Or, if the earlier season lead
To the tanned haycock in the mead
Sometimes, with secure delight
The upland hamlets will invite
When the merry bells ring round
And the jocund rebecks soun
To many a youth and many a mai
Dancing in the chequered shade
And young and old come forth to pla
On a sunshine holiday
Till the livelong daylight fail
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale
With stories told of many a feat
How Faery Mab the junkets eat
She was pinched and pulled, she said
And he, by Friar's lantern led
Tells how the drudging goblin swea
To earn his cream-bowl duly set
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn
His shadowy flail hath threshed the cor
That ten day-labourers could not end
Then lies him down, the lubber fiend
And, stretched out all the chimney's length
Basks at the fire his hairy strength
And crop-full out of doors he flings
Ere the first **** his matin rings
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep
By whispering winds soon lulled asleep
Towered cities please us then
And the busy hum of men
Where throngs of knights and barons bold
In weeds of peace, high triumphs hol
With store of ladies, whose bright eye
Rain influence, and judge the priz
Of wit or arms, while both conten
To win her grace whom all commend
There let Hymen oft appea
In saffron robe, with taper clear
And pomp, and feast, and revelry
With mask and antique pageantry
Such sights as youthful poets drea
On summer eves by haunted stream
Then to the well-trod stage anon
If Jonson's learned sock be on
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child
Warble his native wood-notes wild
And ever, against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs
Married to immortal verse
Such as the meeting soul may pierce
In notes with many a winding bou
Of linked sweetness long drawn ou
With wanton heed and giddy cunning
The melting voice through mazes running
Untwisting all the chains that ti
The hidden soul of harmony
That Orpheus' self may heave his hea
From golden slumber on a be
Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hea
Such strains as would have won the ea
Of Pluto to have quite set fre
His half-regained Eurydice
These delights if thou canst give
Mirth, with thee I mean to live

I did not wright this poem. I just think it needs to be seen becuase of how nifty it is.