March 15, 2009
Avenge O lord thy slaughter’d saints, whose bones   Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipp’d stok and stones Forget not: in thy book record their groans… John Milton:  One the Late Massacre in Piedmont 1655

Avenge O lord thy slaughter’d saints, whose bones  
Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold
Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old
When all our fathers worshipp’d stok and stones
Forget not: in thy book record their groans…

John Milton:  One the Late Massacre in Piedmont 1655

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