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Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Prophetic
Strain
Attain
Till
Experience
Something
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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
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On a sudden open fly With impetuous recoil and jarring sound Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder.
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And these gems of Heav'n, her starry train.
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The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?
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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
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Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades High over-arch'd imbower.
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Beauty is God's handwriting-a wayside sacrament.
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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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My sentence is for open war.
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Hail, wedded love, mysterious law true source of human happiness.
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Calm of mind, all passion spent.
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There are no songs comparable to the songs of Zion, no orations equal to those of the prophets, and no politics like those which the Scriptures teach.
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Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind.
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The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and dischargd what burden then?
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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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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Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.
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Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh to lose thee were to lose myself.
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