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
both creatures earth millions sleep spiritual wake walk
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep
both creatures earth millions sleep spiritual walk
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth unseen, both when we sleep and when we awake.
dark foul hides himself secrets soul thoughts walks
But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself is his own dungeon.
truth way walks
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk.
change dim disastrous eclipse fear half twilight
In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds / On half the nations, and with fear of change / Perplexes monarchs.
cannot knows people talk
Everyone knows that you cannot talk about people by name,
bloody infant mother
The bloody Piedmontese that rolled / Mother with infant down the rocks.
audience fit govern thou though
Still govern thou my song, / Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
against apology best deeds dishonest false honest silence words
The best apology against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and honest deeds set against dishonest words
highest middle sat tree
Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life,/ The middle tree and highest there that grew, / Sat like a cormorant.
best gentle modest reluctant required sway sweet
Implied / Subjection, but required with gentle sway / And by her yielded, by him best received; / Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, / And sweet reluctant amorous delay.
freedom good hath heartily license love none rest scope tyrants
None can love freedom heartily but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license which never hath more scope than under tyrants
death knock quiet
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail / Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,/ Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair,/ And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
bird coming evening fair gems grateful night silent solemn starry sweet
Sweet the coming on / Of grateful evening mild; then silent night / With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, / And these the gems of heaven, her starry train.