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Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Disastrous
Eclipse
Twilight

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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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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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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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The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
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Implied Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,- Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
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But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
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Hide me from day's garish eye.
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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
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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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Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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Th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair.
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Solitude sometimes is best society.
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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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Sweet intercourse of looks and smiles for smiles from reason flow.
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Where shame is, there is also fear.
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How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator?
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Yet I argue not Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep.
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