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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Live
Ripe
Like
Motherhood
Drop
Till
Thou
Fruit
Mother
May
Lap

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This manner of writing wherein knowing myself inferior to myself? I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand.
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Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.
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Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
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No man who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny that all men naturally were born free.
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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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Ink is the blood of the printing-press.
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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And grace that won who saw to wish her stay.
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His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral were but a wand, He walk'd with to support uneasy steps Over the burning marle.
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Hail, holy light! offspring of heaven firstborn! Or of th' eternal co-eternal beam, May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate!
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Impostor do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous With her abundance she, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare temperance.
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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
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Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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