Quote

Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Care
Trip
Come
Holding
Sport
Fantastic
Laughter
Sides
Sports
Wrinkled
Light
Toes

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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings that in the various bustle of resort were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired.
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I must not quarrel with the will Of highest dispensation, which herein, Haply had ends above my reach to know.
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Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.
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And that must end us, that must be our cure: To be no more. Sad cure! For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish, rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night Devoid of sense and motion?
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And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.
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Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
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Now came still evening on and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied for beast and bird, They to they grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.
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The starry cope Of heaven.
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