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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Grow
Grows
Hate
True
Pierced
Never
Lucifer
Deadly
Wounds
Deep

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The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
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But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
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And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained?
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Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
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Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve The faith they owe when earnestly they seek Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.
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Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men Unless there be who think not God at all.
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But all was false and hollow though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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Yet I argue not Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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Such joy ambition finds.
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His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral were but a wand, He walk'd with to support uneasy steps Over the burning marle.
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God sure esteems the growth and completing of one virtuous person, more that the restraint of ten vicious.
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Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.
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Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves Why stand we longer shivering under fears, That show no end but death, and have the power, Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, Destruction with destruction to destroy.
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue.
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Where shame is, there is also fear.
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Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know, Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin!
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