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“So dear to heaven is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream, and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heavenly habitants Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, The unpolluted temple of the mind, And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, Till all be made immortal”
John Milton“Mobile’s reputation as the birthplace of Mardi Gras in North America does not rest solely on the fact that a few half-starved French colonists observed the pre-Lenten feasts here 300 years ago… In 1852, a group of Mobile "Cowbellians" moved to New Orleans and formed the Krewe of Comus, which is now that larger city’s oldest and most secretive Carnival society.…All of Mobile’s parading societies throw Moon Pies along with beads and doubloons, providing sugary nourishment to the revelers lining the streets.The crowd is very regional, mostly coastal Alabamians. Everyone seems to know each other, and they are always honored and often extra hospitable when they learn that you traveled a long way just to visit *their* Carnival. Late into the evening, silk-gowned debutantes with their white-tie and tail clad escorts who’ve grown weary of their formal balls blend easily with the street crowds…”
Gary Bridgman, Lonely Planet Louisiana & the Deep South“One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight, beyond the bliss of dreams.”
John Milton, Comus“How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfet raigns.”
John Milton, Comus“Mortals that would follow me, Love virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than they sphery chime; Or if virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.”
John Milton, Milton's Comus“Mortals that would follow me, Love virtue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to climb Higher than the sphery chime; Or if virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.”
John Milton, Milton's Comus“Come let us haste, the stars grow high, But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.”
John Milton, Milton's Comus“Where glowing embers through the roomTeach light to counterfeit a gloom...”
John Milton, L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas“And looks commercing with the skies,Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.”
John Milton, L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas