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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Beats
Ground
Hands
Knit
Light
Ballet
Come
Round
Rounds
Fantastic
Beat

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Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
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Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place.
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Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun Himself his own dungeon.
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What reinforcement we may gain from hope If not, what resolution from despair.
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Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
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Behold now this vast city [London] a city of refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with His protection.
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.
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Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones.
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Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.
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Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child!
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Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones Forget not.
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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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When we speak of knowing God, it must be understood with reference to man's limited powers of comprehension. God, as He really is, is far beyond man's imagination, let alone understanding. God has revealed only so much of Himself as our minds can conceive and the weakness of our nature can bear.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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What if Earth be but the shadow of Heaven and things therein - each other like, more than on Earth is thought?
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It is Chastity, my brother. She that has that is clad in complete steel.
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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