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United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Glorious
Thoughts
Equal
United
Hope
Counsels
Hazard
Hazards
Enterprise

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His rod revers'd, And backward mutters of dissevering power.
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Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Temper justice with mercy.
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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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Sweet intercourse of looks and smiles for smiles from reason flow.
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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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Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve The faith they owe when earnestly they seek Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
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Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
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Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd.
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The earth, though in comparison of heaven so small, nor glistering, may of solid good contain more plenty than the sun, that barren shines.
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The pious and just honoring of ourselves may be thought the fountainhead from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth.
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How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
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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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Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.
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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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