John Milton on Heaven
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“The starry cope Of heaven.”
“Though in heav'n the trees Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines Yield nectar.”
“Heaven open'd wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound On golden hinges moving.”
“The hasty multitude Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise, And some the architect: his hand was known In heaven by many a tower'd structure high, Where scepter'd angels held their residence, And sat as princes.”