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Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Step
Steps
Hell
Place
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And these gems of Heav'n, her starry train.
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God sure esteems the growth and completing of one virtuous person, more that the restraint of ten vicious.
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For so I created them free and free they must remain.
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Calm of mind, all passion spent.
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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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Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits, flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, But all to please and sate the curious taste?
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Believe and be confirmed.
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Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
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Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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O madness to think use of strongest wines And strongest drinks our chief support of health, When God with these forbidden made choice to rear His mighty champion, strong above compare, Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.
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Socrates... Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd Wisest of men.
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Behold now this vast city [London] a city of refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with His protection.
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Let not England forget her precedence of teaching nations how to live.
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Who can in reason then or right assume monarchy over such as live by right his equals, if in power or splendor less, in freedom equal?
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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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So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gathered, not harshly plucked, for death mature: This is old age but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To withered weak and grey.
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Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
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