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O Conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driven me, out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Find
Driven
Way
Horror
Deeper
Plunged
Conscience
Horrors
Sin
Hast
Loss
Abyss
Deep
Fears
Fear
Thou

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They who have put out the people's eyes reproach them of their blindness.
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O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.
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. . . for beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.
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Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
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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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Good luck befriend thee, Son for at thy birth The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
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And as an ev'ning dragon came, Assailant on the perched roosts And nests in order rang'd Of tame villatic fowl.
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Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.
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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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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.
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With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.
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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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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.
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My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright aerial spirits live insphered In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth.
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Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.
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If weakness may excuse, What murderer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? All wickedness is weakness that plea, therefore, With God or man will gain thee no remission.
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Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.
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