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" Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our Great Maker still new praise. "
Paradise lost, a poem. With the life of the author [by E. Fenton]. - Page 111
by John Milton - 1800
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The Invention of Evening: Perception and Time in Romantic Poetry

Christopher R. Miller - 2006 - 12 pages
...Paradise Lost indicate, are very near indeed. 37 Adam invokes the mists in his hymn to God's glory: "Ye mists and exhalations that now rise / From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, / Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, / In honor to the world's great Author rise"...
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