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Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Doth
Compulsion
Sweet
Lying
Music

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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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Then might ye see Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers tost And flutter'd into rags then reliques, beads, Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, The sport of winds all these upwhirl'd aloft Fly to the rearward of the world far off Into a limbo large and broad, since called The paradise of fools.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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And to the faithful: death, the gate of life.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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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 Solomon, he lived at ease, and full Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond Higher design than to enjoy his state.
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Imparadis'd in one another's arms.
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But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
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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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Who can enjoy alone? Or all enjoying what contentment find?
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And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
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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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The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
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Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.
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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
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Evil into the mind of god or man may come and go, so unapproved, and leave no spot or blame behind.
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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