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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
First
Recoil
Long
Bitterness
Revenge
Bitter
Sweet
Though
Back
Firsts
Recoils

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Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
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On the tawny sands and shelves trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
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Anarchy is the sure consequence of tyranny for no power that is not limited by laws can ever be protected by them.
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For neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone.
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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
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Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
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It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.
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Thence to the famous orators repair, Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence Wielded at will that fierce democratie, Shook the arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece, To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.
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Therefore God's universal law Gave to the man despotic power Over his female in due awe, Not from that right to part an hour, Smile she or lour.
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O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only.
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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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By this time, like one who had set out on his way by night, and travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history now arrives on the confines, where daylight and truth meet us with a clear dawn, representing to our view, though at a far distance, true colours and shapes.
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Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves.
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So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lostEvil,be thou my good.
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The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
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Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
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Nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, And good works in her husband to promote.
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God shall be all in all.
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. . . for beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.
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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap.
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