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This is the month, and this the happy morn, wherein the Son of heaven's eternal King, of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, our great redemption from above did bring.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Happy
Christmas
Morn
Born
King
Maid
Mother
Son
Wherein
Great
Kings
Maids
Eternal
Virgin
Months
Virgins
Bring
Redemption
Heaven
Month
Wedded

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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.
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The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this soil Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon.
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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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Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
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To many a youth and many a maid, dancing in the chequer'd shade.
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun Himself his own dungeon.
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O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gathered, not harshly plucked, for death mature: This is old age but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To withered weak and grey.
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Such joy ambition finds.
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The love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well.
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To be blind is not miserable not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable.
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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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