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There swift return Diurnal, merely to officiate light Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Light
Punctual
Earth
Swift
Spot
Spots
Round
Rounds
Merely
Return

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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child!
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Fear of change perplexes monarchs.
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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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Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.
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Prudence is the virtue by which we discern what is proper to do under various circumstances in time and place.
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O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, Defaced, deflow'red, and now to death devote? Paradise Lost
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Danger will wink on opportunity.
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Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
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What is strength without a double share of wisdom?
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A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.
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The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
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Fairy elves, Whose midnight revels by a forest side Or fountain some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress.
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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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I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs By the known rules of ancient liberty, When straight a barbarous noise environs me Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.
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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
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Good luck befriend thee, Son for at thy birth The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
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My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
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United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise.
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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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