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How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Youth
Thieves
Year
Stolen
Age
Wing
Three
Hath
Years
Subtle
Time
Aging
Wings
Thief
Soon
Twentieth

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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
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Necessity and chance Approach not me, and what I will is fate.
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Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.
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Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
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Nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, And good works in her husband to promote.
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Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
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The pious and just honoring of ourselves may be thought the fountainhead from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth.
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Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
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His form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appear'd Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess Of glory obscur'd.
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