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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Hour
Brought
Silence
Sleep
Hours
Friendliest
Dusky
Midnight

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In discourse more sweet For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense. Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost.
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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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Which way I fly is Hell myself am Hell.
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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O when meet now Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?
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And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
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Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.
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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.
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Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold that shall befall Him or his children.
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Those whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme
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And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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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 end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.
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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.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend, And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the Moon.
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For books are as meats and viands are some of good, some of evil sub-stance.
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What honour that, But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear So many hollow compliments and lies.
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Here we may reign secure and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
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