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The teachers of our law, and to propose What might improve my knowledge or their own.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Knowledge
Might
Propose
Improve
Teachers
Teacher
Law

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Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.
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Truth and understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized and traded in by tickets and statutes and standards. We must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowledge in the land, to mark and license it like our broadcloth and our woolpacks.
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And some are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n, And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell O fall From what high state of bliss into what woe!
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Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
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God shall be all in all.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements.
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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
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Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.
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And if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of Him who all things can, I would not cease To weary Him with my assiduous cries.
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What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue.
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The Tree of Knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
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Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd Firm concord holds, men only disagree Of creatures rational.
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I on the other side Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.
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Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.
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O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings.
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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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