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Evil into the mind of god or man may come and go, so unapproved, and leave no spot or blame behind.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Evil
May
Come
Spot
Mind
Spots
Men
Blame
Behinds
Behind
Leave

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And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
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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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So dear I love him, that with him, all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life.
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A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, And pavement stars,--as stars to thee appear Seen in the galaxy, that milky way Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest Powder'd with stars.
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But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
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Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making.
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Reason also is choice.
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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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Our two first parents, yet the only two Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love In blissful solitude.
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Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love.
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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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Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
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Moping melancholy And moon-struck madness.
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There is no truth sure enough to justify persecution.
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Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind.
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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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