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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Fancy
Singing
Poet
Garland
High
Fancies
Reason
Soaring
Garlands
Robes
Soar

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Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
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And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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This is servitude, To serve th'unwise, or him who hath rebelled Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled.
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I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend.
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Evil, be thou my good.
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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.
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Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love.
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Socrates... Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd Wisest of men.
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