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Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Ends
Abyss
Eternity
Reach
Whose
Beyond
Eye

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Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
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From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,- A summer's day and with the setting sun Dropp'd from the Zenith like a falling star.
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O when meet now Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?
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Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
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Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
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Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, That comes to all.
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Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam.
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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
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Midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
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O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings.
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God, who oft descends to visit men Unseen, and through their habitations walks To mark their doings.
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And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.
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How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
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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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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
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I will not deny but that the best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words.
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Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself.
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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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Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
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