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The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Night
Caves
Desert
Silent
Sun
Moon
Darkness
Deserts
Silence
Vacant
Dark
Cave

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There swift return Diurnal, merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.
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Who can enjoy alone? Or all enjoying what contentment find?
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No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine.
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A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.
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How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
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Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
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The Tree of Knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
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O Conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driven me, out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged.
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O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
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Satan so call him now, his former name Is heard no more in heaven.
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Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
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Dark with excessive bright.
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