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Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Makers
Thee
Epigraphs
Darkness
Solicit
Men
Mould
Maker
Request
Clay
Promote

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That space the Evil One abstracted stood From his own evil, and for the time remained Stupidly good, of enmity disarmed, Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge .
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A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond / Frightened the reign of Chaos and old Night.
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Let us descend now therefore from this top Of speculation.
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Oft, on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfew sound Over some wide-watered shore, Swinging low with sullen roar.
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O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
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The Tree of Knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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What if Earth be but the shadow of Heaven and things therein - each other like, more than on Earth is thought?
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Temper justice with mercy.
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Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine.
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