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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
May
Lap
Live
Ripe
Like
Motherhood
Drop
Till
Thou
Fruit
Mother

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We read not that Christ ever exercised force but once and that was to drive profane ones out of his Temple, not to force them in.
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Let none admire that riches grow in hell that soil may best deserve the precious bane.
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Midnight shout and revelry, Tipsy dance and jollity.
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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
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Which way I fly is Hell myself am Hell.
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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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Me miserable! Which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell myself am hell And in the lowest deep a lower deep, Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
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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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Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss.
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A good principle not rightly understood may prove as hurtful as a bad.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
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But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
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In argument with men a woman ever Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.
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From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,- A summer's day and with the setting sun Dropp'd from the Zenith like a falling star.
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... then there was war in heaven. But it was not angels. It was that small golden zeppelin, like a long oval world, high up. It seemed as if the cosmic order were gone, as if there had come a new order, a new heavens above us: and as if the world in anger were trying to revoke it.
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So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
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In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
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