human
delightedly I pore-- Keen, vigorous, chaste, and full of harmony, Deep in the soil of our humanity It taketh root, until the goodly tree Of Poesy puts forth green branch and bough, With bud and blossom sweet. Through the rich gloom Of one embowered haunt I see thee now, Where 'neath thy hand the
gpt
Flower and Leaflet
human
In thoughts that breathe, and words that burn, did shed, A noontide glory over Milton's head-- He,
gpt
Prince of Poets