John Milton
John Milton
John Miltonwas an English poet, polemicist, and man of letters, and a civil servant for the Commonwealth of England under Oliver Cromwell. He wrote at a time of religious flux and political upheaval, and is best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost, written in blank verse...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth9 December 1608
mood perfect soft
In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood / Of flutes and soft recorders.
perfection parent soul
The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.
perfect thee made
God made thee perfect, not immutable.
patience pain perfect
But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
pain evil perfect
Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life; But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience.
wise heart perfect
My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
chronicle fighting fights-and-fighting wars
To chronicle the wars of kites and crows, fighting in the air.
flown forth insolence night sons wander wine
When night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine
faith angel wings
O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings.
music sweet lying
Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.
ambition reign serve though worth
To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav'n
darkness discover flames hope peace rather regions rest served shades sights visible
Yet from those flames / No light, but rather darkness visible / Served only to discover sights of woe, / Regions of sorrow, doleful shades where peace / And rest can never dwell, hope never comes / That comes to all.
hath love offense regain strange though
Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offense returning, to regain Love once possess'd
astray behold head highest led near riding wandering wide
To behold the wandering moon, / Riding near her highest noon, / Like one that had been led astray / Through the heav'n's wide pathless way; / And oft, as if her head she bowed, / Stooping through a fleecy cloud.