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And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Kings
Dies
Lying
Wish
Would
Pomp
Dost
Tomb
Tombs

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If at great things thou would'st arrive, Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, Not difficult, if thou hearken to me Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand, They whom I favor thrive in wealth amain, While virtue, valor, wisdom, sit in want.
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Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was headlong sent with his industrious crew to build in hell.
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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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Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam.
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So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
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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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Evil, be thou my good.
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Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold that shall befall Him or his children.
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Virtue hath no tongue to check vice's pride.
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A limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools to few unknown.
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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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Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
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In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
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That space the Evil One abstracted stood From his own evil, and for the time remained Stupidly good, of enmity disarmed, Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge .
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The never-ending flight Of future days.
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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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A good principle not rightly understood may prove as hurtful as a bad.
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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Perplexed and troubled at his bad success The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope.
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Better to reign in hell than serve in heav'n.
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