Sonnet XVIII: On the Late Massacre in Piemont

John Milton 1608 (Cheapside) – 1674 (Chalfont St Giles)



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 stocks and stones;
    Forget not: in thy book record their groans
        Who were thy sheep and in their ancient fold
        Slain by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd
        Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans
    The vales redoubl'd to the hills, and they
      To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow
      O'er all th' Italian fields where still doth sway
  The triple tyrant; that from these may grow
      A hundred-fold, who having learnt thy way
  Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

36 sec read
56

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBAABBACDCECE
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 702
Words 113
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 14

John Milton

John Milton was the Secretary of State of Georgia from 1777 to 1799. more…

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