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The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Threats
Wander
Passenger
Horror
Forlorn
Threat
Nodding
Whose
Shady
Brows
Passengers
Wandering

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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
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Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child!
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Only add Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, By name to come call'd charity, the soul Of all the rest then wilt thou not be loath To leave this Paradise, but shall possess A Paradise within thee, happier far.
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But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
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Not to know me argues yourselves unknown.
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I call a complete and generous education that which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war.
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Time is the subtle thief of youth.
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Yet some there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on that golden key That opes the palace of Eternity.
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun Himself his own dungeon.
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Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate
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Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place.
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Let us descend now therefore from this top Of speculation.
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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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Aristotle ... imputed this symphony of the heavens ... this music of the spheres to Pythagorus. ... But Pythagoras alone of mortals is said to have heard this harmony ... If our hearts were as pure, as chaste, as snowy as Pythagoras' was, our ears would resound and be filled with that supremely lovely music of the wheeling stars.
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Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown in courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, where most may wonder at the workmanship.
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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.
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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.
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I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend.
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On the tawny sands and shelves trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
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Our reason is our law.
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