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Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades High over-arch'd imbower.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Shade
Thick
Leaves
High
Autumnal
Arch
Arches
Shades
Brooks

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And sing to those that hold the vital shears And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
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Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves.
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Time, though in Eternity, applied To motion, measures all things durable By present, past, and future.
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Thence to the famous orators repair, Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence Wielded at will that fierce democratie, Shook the arsenal, and fulmin'd over Greece, To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.
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Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
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With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.
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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
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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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The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
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The pious and just honoring of ourselves may be thought the fountainhead from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth.
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On the tawny sands and shelves trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
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Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
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