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Nor love thy life, nor hate but what thou livest, Live well how long, or short, permit to Heaven.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Live
Wells
Well
Long
Permit
Love
Thou
Life
Short
Heaven
Hate

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Let us descend now therefore from this top Of speculation.
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It is not good that man should be alone. ... Hitherto all things that have been named, were approved of God to be very good: loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good: whether it be a thing, or the want of something, I labour not.
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Sweet intercourse of looks and smiles for smiles from reason flow.
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Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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Extol not riches then, the toil of fools, The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.
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To many a youth and many a maid, dancing in the chequer'd shade.
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... then there was war in heaven. But it was not angels. It was that small golden zeppelin, like a long oval world, high up. It seemed as if the cosmic order were gone, as if there had come a new order, a new heavens above us: and as if the world in anger were trying to revoke it.
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It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win, or long inherit But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit.
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Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.
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It was the winter wild, While the Heaven-born child, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.
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United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise.
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If at great things thou would'st arrive, Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, Not difficult, if thou hearken to me Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand, They whom I favor thrive in wealth amain, While virtue, valor, wisdom, sit in want.
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Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
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Such sober certainty of waking bliss.
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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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God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest They also serve who only stand and wait.
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Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
John Milton