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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Logic
Illimitable
Ocean
Ontology
Dark
Infinity
Without
Reasoning
Uncertainty
Bound
Certainty
Bounds

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Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.
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Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.
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The teachers of our law, and to propose What might improve my knowledge or their own.
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Virtue hath no tongue to check vice's pride.
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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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As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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For neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone.
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Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not in this we stand or fall.
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And now without redemption all mankind Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell By doom severe.
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Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know, Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin!
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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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Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.
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Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
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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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It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.
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So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend Walked up and down alone bent on his prey.
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Here we may reign secure and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
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