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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
Shades
Brooks
Shade
Thick
Leaves
High
Autumnal
Arch
Arches

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Who aspires must down as low As high he soar'd.
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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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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
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My latest found, Heaven's last, best gift, my ever new delight!
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.
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Who can in reason then or right assume monarchy over such as live by right his equals, if in power or splendor less, in freedom equal?
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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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What if Earth be but the shadow of Heaven and things therein - each other like, more than on Earth is thought?
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Yet I argue not Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope but still bear up and steer Right onward.
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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
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Where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mast'ry.
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Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
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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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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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But O yet more miserable! Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.
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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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Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know, Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin!
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And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
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How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.
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