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Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Sunbeams
Outward
Touch
Impossible
Inspirational
Truth
Sunbeam
Soiled

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Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.
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Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.
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Satan so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in heaven.
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Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
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The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
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Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones Forget not.
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The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
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So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lostEvil,be thou my good.
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Virtue hath no tongue to check vice's pride.
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If all the world Should in a pet of temp'rance, feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, Th' All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unprais'd.
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The childhood shows the man As morning shows the day. Be famous then By wisdom as thy empire must extend, So let extend thy mind o'er all the world.
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With thee conversing I forget all time.
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Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.
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There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.
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But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light.
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
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Seas wept from our deep sorrows.
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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
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But God himself is truth in propagating which, as men display a greater integrity and zeal, they approach nearer to the similitude of God, and possess a greater portion of his love.
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