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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Sent
Spring
Poplar
Genius
Dale
Sighing
Haunted
Parting
Pale

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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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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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Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
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Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper.
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Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled.
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Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
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These evils I deserve, and more . . . . Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, Whose ear is ever open, and his eye Gracious to re-admit the suppliant.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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Her silent course advance With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps On her soft axle.
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It is for homely features to keep home,- They had their name thence coarse complexions And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool. What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that, Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
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Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony.
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