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Zeal and duty are not slow But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Opportunity
Watchful
Zeal
Occasion
Occasions
Slow
Wait
Duty
Waiting
Forelock

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Just are the ways of God, And justifiable to men Unless there be who think not God at all.
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Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions, mixed with love and sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned union of mind, or in us both one soul.
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Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
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What honour that, But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear So many hollow compliments and lies.
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Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd.
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It is Chastity, my brother. She that has that is clad in complete steel.
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These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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But hail thou Goddess sage and holy, Hail, divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.
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To live a life half dead, a living death.
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O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only.
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No mighty trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
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Who can enjoy alone? Or all enjoying what contentment find?
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Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
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The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
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Dark with excessive bright.
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For truth is strong next to the Almighty. She needs no policies or stratagems or licensings to make her victorious. These are the shifts and the defences that error uses against her power.
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Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.
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Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings that in the various bustle of resort were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired.
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