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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Read
Book
Wherein
Wondrous
Thee
Works
Heaven

More quotes by John Milton

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So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all our woe.
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The planets in their station list'ning stood.
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You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind.
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The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
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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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Th'invention all admir'd, and each, how he to be th'inventor miss'd so easy it seem'd once found, which yet unfound most would have thought impossible.
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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies.
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Witness this new-made world, another Heav'n From Heaven Gate not farr, founded in view On the clear Hyaline, the Glassie Sea Of amplitude almost immense, with Starr's Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a world Of destined habitation.
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Arm the obdured breast with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
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If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
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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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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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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
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Necessity and chance Approach not me, and what I will is fate.
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It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win, or long inherit But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit.
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