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Retiring From The Popular Noise, I Seek This Unfrequented Place To Find Some Ease.

-John Milton

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Retiring From The Popular

John Milton

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Retiring From The Popular Noise, I Seek This Unfrequented Place To Find Some Ease.

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Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.

God Made Thee Perfect, Not Immutable.

The Earth, Though In Comparison Of Heaven So Small, Nor Glistering, May Of Solid Good Contain More Plenty Than The Sun, That Barren Shines.

No Date Prefixed Directs Me In The Starry Rubric Set.

I Must Not Quarrel With The Will Of Highest Dispensation, Which Herein, Haply Had Ends Above My Reach To Know.

So Spake The Seraph Abdiel, Faithful Found; Among The Faithless, Faithful Only He.

Evil On Itself Shall Back Recoil.

The Redundant Locks, Robustious To No Purpose, Clustering Down--vast Monument Of Strength.

... Then There Was War In Heaven. But It Was Not Angels. It Was That Small Golden Zeppelin, Like A Long Oval World, High Up. It Seemed As If The Cosmic Order Were Gone, As If There Had Come A New Order, A New Heavens Above Us: And As If The World In Anger Were Trying To Revoke It.

What Wisdom Can There Be To Choose, What Continence To Forbear Without The Knowledge Of Evil? He That Can Apprehend And Consider Vice With All Her Baits And Seeming Pleasures, And Yet Abstain, And Yet Distinguish, And Yet Prefer That Which Is Truly Better, He Is The True Wayfaring Christian.

The Low'ring Element Scowls O'er The Darken'd Landscape.

Virtue May Be Assailed, But Never Hurt, Surprised By Unjust Force, But Not Enthralled.

All Is Not Lost, The Unconquerable Will, And Study Of Revenge, Immortal Hate, And The Courage Never To Submit Or Yield.

This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light; Besides What Hope The Never-ending Flight Of Future Days May Bring, What Chance, What Change Worth Waiting--since Our Present Lot Appears For Happy Though But Ill, For Ill Not Worst, If We Procure Not To Ourselves More Woe.

The Brazen Throat Of War.

So Little Knows Any, But God Alone, But Perverts Best Things To Worst Abuse, Or To Their Meanest Use.

I See Thou Art Implacable, More Deaf To Pray'rs Than Winds And Seas. Yet Winds To Seas Are Reconcil'd At Length, And Sea To Shore: Thy Anger, Unappeasable, Still Rages Eternal Tempest Never To Be Calm'd.

Solitude Is Sometimes The Best Society.

For Other Things Mild Heav'n A Time Ordains, And Disapproves That Care, Though Wise In Show, That With Superfluous Burden Loads The Day, And When God Sends A Cheerful Hour, Refrains.

Who Reads Incessantly, And To His Reading Brings Not A Spirit And Judgment Equal Or Superior, (and What He Brings What Need He Elsewhere Seek?) Uncertain And Unsettled Still Remains, Deep Versed In Books And Shallow In Himself, Crude Or Intoxicate, Collecting Toys And Trifles For Choice Matters, Worth A Sponge, As Children Gathering Pebbles On The Shore.

What Am I Pondering, You Ask? So Help Me God, Immortality.

And I Will Place Within Them As A Guide My Umpire Conscience, Whom If They Will Hear Light After Light Well Used They Shall Attain, And To The End Persisting, Safe Arrive.

In Vain Doth Valour Bleed, While Avarice And Rapine Share The Land.

Seas Wept From Our Deep Sorrows.

Time Will Run Back And Fetch The Age Of Gold.

When A King Sets Himself To Bandy Against The Highest Court And Residence Of All Regal Powers, He Then, In The Single Person Of A Man, Fights Against His Own Majesty And Kingship.

Nor Think Thou With Wind Of æry Threats To Awe Whom Yet With Deeds Thou Canst Not.

Heaven Is As The Book Of God Before Thee Set, Wherein To Read His Wondrous Works.

Confidence Imparts A Wonderful Inspiration To The Possessor.

Among The Writers Of All Ages, Some Deserve Fame, And Have It; Others Neither Have Nor Deserve It; Some Have It, Not Deserving It; Others, Though Deserving It, Yet Totally Miss It, Or Have It Not Equal To Their Deserts.

Hide Me From Day's Garish Eye.

Apt Words Have Power To Suage The Tumors Of A Troubled Mind.

Money Brings Honor, Friends, Conquest, And Realms.

So Shall The World Go On, To Good Malignant, To Bad Men Benign, Under Her Own Weight Groaning.

Ere The Blabbing Eastern Scout, The Nice Morn, On Th' Indian Steep From Her Cabin'd Loop-hole Peep.

Calm Of Mind, All Passion Spent.

Praise From An Enemy Smells Of Craft.

O'er Many A Frozen, Many A Fiery Alp, Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, And Shades Of Death.

All Hell Broke Loose.

How Soon Hath Time, The Subtle Thief Of Youth, Stolen On His Wing My Three-and-twentieth Year!

There Is No Christian Duty That Is Not To Be Seasoned And Set Off With Cheerishness, Which In A Thousand Outward And Intermitting Crosses May Yet Be Done Well, As In This Vale Of Tears.

When Complaints Are Freely Heard, Deeply Considered And Speedily Reformed, Then Is The Utmost Bound Of Civil Liberty Attained That Wise Men Look For.

Socrates... Whom Well Inspir'd The Oracle Pronounc'd Wisest Of Men.

O Madness To Think Use Of Strongest Wines And Strongest Drinks Our Chief Support Of Health, When God With These Forbidden Made Choice To Rear His Mighty Champion, Strong Above Compare, Whose Drink Was Only From The Liquid Brook.

Is It True, O Christ In Heaven, That The Highest Suffer The Most? That The Strongest Wander Furthest And Most Hopelessly Are Lost? That The Mark Of Rank In Nature Is Capacity For Pain? That The Anguish Of The Singer Makes The Sweetness Of The Strain?

Luck Is The Residue Of Design.

Awake, Arise Or Be For Ever Fall’n.

Hell Has No Benefits, Only Torture.

Imparadis'd In One Another's Arms.

Vain Wisdom All, And False Philosophy.

Th'invention All Admir'd, And Each, How He To Be Th'inventor Miss'd; So Easy It Seem'd Once Found, Which Yet Unfound Most Would Have Thought Impossible.

He Alone Is Worthy Of The Appellation Who Either Does Great Things, Or Teaches How They May Be Done, Or Describes Them With A Suitable Majesty When They Have Been Done; But Those Only Are Great Things Which Tend To Render Life More Happy, Which Increase The Innocent Enjoyments And Comforts Of Existence, Or Which Pave The Way To A State Of Future Bliss More Permanent And More Pure.

Enjoy Your Dear Wit And Gay Rhetoric, That Hath So Well Been Taught Her Dazzling Fence.

Witness This New-made World, Another Heav'n From Heaven Gate Not Farr, Founded In View On The Clear Hyaline, The Glassie Sea; Of Amplitude Almost Immense, With Starr's Numerous, And Every Starr Perhaps A World Of Destined Habitation.

Assuredly We Bring Not Innocence Not The World, We Bring Impurity Much Rather: That Which Purifies Us Is Trial, And Trial Is By What Is Contrary.

And, Re-assembling Our Afflicted Powers, Consult How We May Henceforth Most Offend.

And Every Shepherd Tells His Tale Under The Hawthorn In The Dale.

And So Sepúlchred In Such Pomp Dost Lie, That Kings For Such A Tomb Would Wish To Die.

What If Earth Be But The Shadow Of Heaven And Things Therein - Each Other Like, More Than On Earth Is Thought?

Where Shame Is, There Is Also Fear.

Antichrist Is Mammon's Son.

Truth And Understanding Are Not Such Wares As To Be Monopolized And Traded In By Tickets And Statutes And Standards. We Must Not Think To Make A Staple Commodity Of All The Knowledge In The Land, To Mark And License It Like Our Broadcloth And Our Woolpacks.

Hail, Wedded Love, Mysterious Law; True Source Of Human Happiness.

He Who Would Not Be Frustrate Of His Hope To Write Well Hereafter In Laudable Things Ought Himself To Be A True Poem.

The Oracles Are Dumb, No Voice Or Hideous Hum Runs Thro' The Arched Roof In Words Deceiving.

Death Is The Golden Key That Opens The Palace Of Eternity.

Eternity Of Life

Our Torments Also May In Length Of Time Become Our Elements.

No Man Who Knows Aught, Can Be So Stupid To Deny That All Men Naturally Were Born Free.

Thoughts That Voluntary Move Harmonious Numbers.

Grace Was In All Her Steps, Heaven In Her Eye, In Every Gesture Dignity And Love.

Well Observe The Rule Of Not Too Much, By Temperance Taught In What Thou Eat'st And Drink'st.

Courage Never To Submit Of Yield.

Till Old Experience Do Attain To Something Like Prophetic Strain.

Methinks I See In My Mind A Noble And Puissant Nation Rousing Herself Like A Strong Man After Sleep, And Shaking Her Invincible Locks; Methinks I See Her As An Eagle Mewing Her Mighty Youth, And Kindling Her Undazzled Eyes At The Full Midday Beam.

It Is Not Good That Man Should Be Alone. ... Hitherto All Things That Have Been Named, Were Approved Of God To Be Very Good: Loneliness Is The First Thing Which God's Eye Named Not Good: Whether It Be A Thing, Or The Want Of Something, I Labour Not.

True It Is That Covetousness Is Rich, Modesty Starves.

Then Wilt Thou Not Be Loath To Leave This Paradise, But Shalt Possess A Paradise Within Thee, Happier Far.

I Cannot Praise A Fugitive And Cloistered Virtue, Unexercised And Unbreathed, That Never Sallies Out And Sees Her Adversary, But Slinks Out Of The Race Where That Immortal Garland Is To Be Run For, Not Without Dust And Heat.

Wealth And Honours, Which Most Men Pursue, Easily Change Masters; They Desert To The Side Which Excels In Virtue, Industry, And Endurance Of Toil, And They Abandon The Slothful.

Some Say No Evil Thing That Walks By Night, In Fog Or Fire, By Lake Or Moorish Fen, Blue Meagre Hag, Or Stubborn Unlaid Ghost That Breaks His Magic Chains At Curfew Time, No Goblin, Or Swart Fairy Of The Mine, Hath Hurtful Power O'er True Virginity.

Perplexed And Troubled At His Bad Success The Tempter Stood, Nor Had What To Reply, Discovered In His Fraud, Thrown From His Hope.

Chaos Umpire Sits And By Decision More Embroils The Fray By Which He Reigns: Next Him High Arbiter Chance Governs All.

Forget Thyself To Marble.

And Join With Thee Calm Peace And Quiet, Spare Fast, That Oft With Gods Doth Diet.

Now Conscience Wakes Despair That Slumber'd,-wakes The Bitter Memory Of What He Was, What Is, And What Must Be Worse.

A Good Book Is The Precious Lifeblood Of A Master Spirit.

Virtue That Wavers Is Not Virtue.

A Boundless Continent, Dark, Waste, And Wild, Under The Frown Of Night Starless Expos'd.

On The Morning Of Christ's Nativity Perhaps Their Loves, Or Else Their Sheep, Was All That Did Their Silly Thoughts So Busy Keep.

O Conscience, Into What Abyss Of Fears And Horrors Hast Thou Driven Me, Out Of Which I Find No Way, From Deep To Deeper Plunged.

Now Came Still Evening On; And Twilight Gray Had In Her Sober Livery All Things Clad: Silence Accompanied; For Beast And Bird, They To They Grassy Couch, These To Their Nests, Were Slunk, All But The Wakeful Nightingale.

O When Meet Now Such Pairs, In Love And Mutual Honour Joined?

Daughter To That Good Earl, Once President Of England's Council, And Her Treasury, Who Lived In Both, Unstained With Gold Or Fee, And Left Them Both, More In Himself Content, Till Sad The Breaking Of That Parliament Broke Him, As That Dishonest Victory At Chaeronea, Fatal To Liberty, Killed With Report That Old Man Eloquent. Though Later Born Than To Have Known The Days Wherein Your Father Flourished, Yet By You, Madam, Methinks I See Him Living Yet; So Well Your Words His Noble Virtues Praise, That All Both Judge You To Relate Them True, And To Possess Them, Honoured Margaret.

These Are Thy Glorious Works Parent Of Good, Almighty, Thine This Universal Frame, Thus Wondrous Fair; Thy Self How Wondrous Then! Unspeakable, Who Sitst Above These Heavens To Us Invisible Or Dimly Seen In These Thy Lowest Works, Yet These Declare Thy Goodness Beyond Thought, And Power Divine: Speak Ye Who Best Can Tell, Ye Sons Of Light, Angels, For Ye Behold Him, And With Songs And Choral Symphonies, Day Without Night, Circle His Throne Rejoicing, Ye In Heav'n, On Earth Join All Ye Creatures To Extoll Him First, Him Last, Him Midst, And Without End.

The Best Apology Against False Accusers Is Silence.

All Hope Is Lost Of My Reception Into Grace; What Worse? For Where No Hope Is Left, Is Left No Fear.

Let Not England Forget Her Precedence Of Teaching Nations How To Live.

Accuse Not Nature: She Hath Done Her Part; Do Thou But Thine.

Of Man's First Disobedience, And The Fruit/of That Forbidden Tree, Whose Mortal Taste/brought Death Into The World, And All Our Woe,/with Loss Of Eden, Till One Greater Man/restore Us, And Regain The Blissful Seat,/sing Heavenly Muse

This Manner Of Writing Wherein Knowing Myself Inferior To Myself? I Have The Use, As I May Account It, But Of My Left Hand.

No Institution Which Does Not Continually Test Its Ideals, Techniques And Measure Of Accomplishment Can Claim Real Vitality.

God, Who Oft Descends To Visit Men Unseen, And Through Their Habitations Walks To Mark Their Doings.

The Hungry Sheep Look Up, And Are Not Fed, But, Swoln With Wind, And The Rank Mist They Draw, Rot Inwardly, And Foul Contagion Spread: Besides What The Grim Wolf With Privy Paw Daily Devours Apace, And Nothing Said; But That Two-handed Engine At The Door Stands Ready To Smite Once, And Smite No More.

Contemplation Is Wisdom's Best Nurse.

And The Jocund Rebecks Sound To Many A Youth, And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Checkered Shade. And Young And Old Come Forth To Play On A Sunshine Holiday.

The Virtuous Mind That Ever Walks Attended By A Strong Siding Champion, Conscience.

From Haunted Spring And Dale Edg'd With Poplar Pale The Parting Genius Is With Sighing Sent.

Innumerable As The Stars Of Night, Or Stars Of Morning, Dewdrops Which The Sun Impearls On Every Leaf And Every Flower.

Come To The Sunset Tree! The Day Is Past And Gone; The Woodman's Axe Lies Free, And The Reaper's Work Is Done.

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.

But Let My Due Feet Never Fail To Walk The Studious Cloisters Pale, And Love The High Embowed Roof, With Antique Pillars Massy Proof, And Storied Windows Richly Dight; Casting A Dim Religious Light.

Let No Man Seek Henceforth To Be Foretold That Shall Befall Him Or His Children.

Sweet Bird That Shunn'st The Nose Of Folly, Most Musical, Most Melancholy! Thee, Chauntress, Oft, The Woods Among, I Woo, To Hear Thy Even-song.

Come, Pensive Nun, Devout And Pure, Sober Steadfast, And Demure, All In A Robe Of Darkest Grain, Flowing With Majestic Train.

Sabrina Fair, Listen Where Thou Art Sitting Under The Glassy, Cool, Translucent Wave, In Twisted Braids Of Lilies Knitting The Loose Train Of Thy Amber-dropping Hair.

See Golden Days, Fruitful Of Golden Deeds, With Joy And Love Triumphing.

Better To Reign In Hell Than Serve In Heav'n.

Courtesy Which Oft Is Found In Lowly Sheds, With Smoky Rafters, Than In Tapestry Halls And Courts Of Princes, Where It First Was Named.

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap, Or Be With Ease Gathered, Not Harshly Plucked, For Death Mature: This Is Old Age; But Then Thou Must Outlive Thy Youth, Thy Strength, Thy Beauty, Which Will Change To Withered Weak And Grey.

Meanwhile The Adversary Of God And Man, Satan With Thoughts Inflamed Of Highest Design, Puts On Swift Wings, And Towards The Gates Of Hell Explores His Solitary Flight.

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.

Laws Can Discover Sin, But Not Remove It

Ask For This Great Deliverer Now, And Find Him Eyeless In Gaza At The Mill With Slaves.

Most Men Admire Virtue Who Follow Not Her Lore.

Angels Contented With Their Face In Heaven, Seek Not The Praise Of Men.

Peace Hath Her Victories, No Less Renowned Than War.

If It Come To Prohibiting, There Is Aught More Likely To Be Prohibited Than Truth Itself.

Confusion Heard His Voice, And Wild Uproar Stood Ruled, Stood Vast Infinitude Confined; Till At His Second Bidding Darkness Fled, Light Shone, And Order From Disorder Sprung.

The Childhood Shows The Man As Morning Shows The Day. Be Famous Then By Wisdom; As Thy Empire Must Extend, So Let Extend Thy Mind O'er All The World.

There Is No Learned Man But Will Confess Be Hath Much Profited By Reading Controversies,--his Senses Awakened, His Judgment Sharpened, And The Truth Which He Holds Firmly Established. If Then It Be Profitable For Him To Read, Why Should It Not At Least Be Tolerable And Free For His Adversary To Write? In Logic They Teach That Contraries Laid Together, More Evidently Appear; It Follows Then, That All Controversy Being Permitted, Falsehood Will Appear More False, And Truth The More True; Which Must Needs Conduce Much To The General Confirmation Of An Implicit Truth.

The Timely Dew Of Sleep Now Falling With Soft Slumb'rous Weight Inclines Our Eyelids.

Education Of Youth Is Not A Bow For Every Man To Shoot In That Counts Himself A Teacher; But Will Require Sinews Almost Equal To Those Which Homer Gave To Ulysses.

He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills Reason Itself.

Immortal Amarant, A Flower Which Once In Paradise, Fast By The Tree Of Life, Began To Bloom; But Soon For Man's Offence To Heaven Removed, Where First It Grew, There Grows, And Flowers Aloft, Shading The Fount Of Life, And Where The River Of Bliss Through Midst Of Heaven Rolls O'er Elysian Flowers Her Amber Stream: With These That Never Fade The Spirits Elect Bind Their Resplendent Locks.

A Dungeon Horrible, On All Sides Round, As One Great Furnace, Flamed; Yet From Those Flames No Light, But Rather Darkness Visible Serv'd 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; But Torture Without End.

And These Gems Of Heav'n, Her Starry Train.

Man Hath His Daily Work Of Body Or Mind Appointed, Which Declares His Dignity, And The Regard Of Heav'n On All His Ways.

Justice Divine Mends Not Her Slowest Pace For Prayers Or Cries.

One Sip Of This Will Bathe The Drooping Spirits In Delight, Beyond The Bliss Of Dreams.

Among Unequals What Society Can Sort, What Harmony, Or True Delight?

Fame, If Not Double Fac'd, Is Double Mouth'd, And With Contrary Blast Proclaims Most Deeds; On Both His Wings, One Black, The Other White, Bears Greatest Names In His Wild Aery Flight.

A Bevy Of Fair Women.

Wherefore Did Nature Pour Her Bounties Forth With Such A Full And Unwithdrawing Hand, Covering The Earth With Odours, Fruits, Flocks, Thronging The Seas With Spawn Innumerable, But All To Please And Sate The Curious Taste?

So Scented The Grim Feature, And Upturn'd His Nostril Wide Into The Murky Air, Sagacious Of His Quarry From So Far.

Freely They Stood Who Stood, And Fell Who Fell.

We Shall Sooner Have The Fowl By Hatching The Egg Than By Smashing It. Abraham Lincoln, White House Speech 11 April 1865. Or Arm Th' Obdured Breast With Stubborn Patience As With Triple Steel.

A Death-like Sleep, A Gentle Wafting To Immortal Life.

The Winds With Wonder Whist, Smoothly The Waters Kisst.

Give Me The Liberty To Know, To Utter, And To Argue Freely According To Conscience, Above All Liberties.

But Oh The Heavy Change, Now Thou Art Gone, Now Thou Art Gone And Never Must Return!

In Physic, Things Of Melancholic Hue And Quality Are Used Against Melancholy, Sour Against Sour, Salt To Remove Salt Humors.

Gratitude Bestows Reverence, Allowing Us To Encounter Everyday Epiphanies, Those Transcendent Moments Of Awe That Change Forever How We Experience Life And The World.

Thy Actions To Thy Words Accord; Thy Words To Thy Large Heart Give Utterance Due; Thy Heart; Contains Of Good, Wise, Just, The Perfect Shape.

And If By Prayer Incessant I Could Hope To Change The Will Of Him Who All Things Can, I Would Not Cease To Weary Him With My Assiduous Cries.

In Argument With Men A Woman Ever Goes By The Worse, Whatever Be Her Cause.

Hung Over Her Enamour'd, And Beheld Beauty, Which, Whether Waking Or Asleep, Shot Forth Peculiar Graces.

It Was The Winter Wild, While The Heaven-born Child, All Meanly Wrapt In The Rude Manger Lies.

Death From Sin No Power Can Separate.

And Add To These Retired Leisure, That In Trim Gardens Take His Pleasure.

But Peaceful Was The Night Wherein The Prince Of Light His Reign Of Peace Upon The Earth Began.

God Has Set Labor And Rest, As Day And Night To Men Successive.

How Wearisom Eternity So Spent In Worship Paid To Whom We Hate. Let Us Not Then Pursue By Force Impossible, By Leave Obtain'd Unacceptable, Though In Heav'n, Our State Of Splendid Vassalage, But Rather Seek Our Own Good From Our Selves, And From Our Own Live To Our Selves, Though In This Vast Recess, Free, And To None Accountable, Preferring Hard Liberty Before The Easie Yoke Of Servile Pomp

Heaven Open'd Wide Her Ever During Gates, Harmonious Sound, On Golden Hinges Moving.

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?

Love Virtue, She Alone Is Free, She Can Teach Ye How To Climb Higher Than The Sphery Chime; Or, If Virtue Feeble Were, Heav'n Itself Would Stoop To Her.

So Dear To Heav'n Is Saintly Chastity, That When A Soul Is Found Sincerely So, A Thousand Liveried Angels Lackey Her, Driving Far Off Each Thing Of Sin And Guilt, And In Clear Dream And Solemn Vision Tell Her Of Things That No Gross Ear Can Hear, Till Oft Converse With Heav'nly Habitants Begin To Cast A Beam On Th' Outward Shape.

Joking Decides Great Things, Stronger And Better Oft Than Earnest Can.

If This Fail, The Pillar'd Firmament Is Rottenness, And Earth's Base Built On Stubble.

Fear Of Change Perplexes Monarchs.

His Spear, To Equal Which The Tallest Pine Hewn On Norwegian Hills To Be The Mast Of Some Great Ammiral Were But A Wand, He Walk'd With To Support Uneasy Steps Over The Burning Marle.

God Shall Be All In All.

Seasoned Life Of Man Preserved And Stored Up In Books.

By Labor And Intent Study (which I Take To Be My Portion In This Life), Joined With The Strong Propensity Of Nature, I Might Perhaps Leave Something So Written To After-times, As They Should Not Willingly Let It Die.

The Great Emathian Conqueror Bid Spare The House Of Pindarus, When Temple And Tower Went To The Ground.

God Is Decreeing To Begin Some Newand Great Period In His Church, Even To The Reforming Of Reformation Itself. What Does He Then But Reveal Himself To His Servants, And As His Manner Is, First To His Englishmen?

O Loss Of Sight, Of Thee I Most Complain! Blind Among Enemies, O Worse Than Chains, Dungeon Or Beggary, Or Decrepit Age! Light, The Prime Work Of God, To Me Is Extinct, And All Her Various Objects Of Delight Annulled, Which Might In Part My Grief Have Eased. Inferior To The Vilest Now Become Of Man Or Worm; The Vilest Here Excel Me, They Creep, Yet See; I, Dark In Light, Exposed To Daily Fraud, Contempt, Abuse And Wrong, Within Doors, Or Without, Still As A Fool, In Power Of Others, Never In My Own; Scarce Half I Seem To Live, Dead More Than Half.

Can Any Mortal Mixture Of Earth's Mould Breathe Such Divine Enchanting Ravishment?

I Fled, And Cry'd Out, Death; Hell Trembled At The Hideous Name, And Sigh'd From All Her Caves, And Back Resounded, Death.

Methought I Saw My Late Espoused Saint.

Time, Though In Eternity, Applied To Motion, Measures All Things Durable By Present, Past, And Future.

Enflamed With The Study Of Learning And The Admiration Of Virtue; Stirred Up With High Hopes Of Living To Be Brave Men And Worthy Patriots, Dear To God, And Famous To All Ages.

The Very Essence Of Truth Is Plainness And Brightness; The Darkness And Crookedness Is Our Own. The Wisdom Of God Created Understanding, Fit And Proportionable To Truth, The Object And End Of It, As The Eye To The Thing Visible. If Our Understanding Have A Film Of Ignorance Over It, Or Be Blear With Gazing On Other False Glitterings, What Is That To Truth?

The Whole Freedom Of Man Consists Either In Spiritual Or Civil Liberty.

Beyond Is All Abyss, Eternity, Whose End No Eye Can Reach.

Impostor; Do Not Charge Most Innocent Nature, As If She Would Her Children Should Be Riotous With Her Abundance; She, Good Cateress, Means Her Provision Only To The Good, That Live According To Her Sober Laws, And Holy Dictate Of Spare Temperance.

They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.

Patience And Waiting

In Naked Beauty Most Adorned.

Evil, Be Thou My Good.

What Boots It At One Gate To Make Defence, And At Another To Let In The Foe?

She What Was Honour Knew, And With Obsequious Majesty Approv'd My Pleaded Reason. To The Nuptial Bower I Led Her Blushing Like The Morn; All Heaven And Happy Constellations On That Hour Shed Their Selectest Influence; The Earth Gave Sign Of Gratulation, And Each Hill; Joyous The Birds; Fresh Gales And Gentle Airs Whisper'd It To The Woods, And From Their Wings Flung Rose, Flung Odours From The Spicy Shrub.

Just Deeds Are The Best Answer To Injurious Words.

Who Would Not, Finding Way, Break Loose From Hell, . . . . And Boldly Venture To Whatever Place Farthest From Pain?

And As An Ev'ning Dragon Came, Assailant On The Perched Roosts And Nests In Order Rang'd Of Tame Villatic Fowl.

Yet Beauty, Though Injurious, Hath Strange Power, After Offence Returning, To Regain Love Once Possess'd.

Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.

Beauty Is Nature's Brag, And Must Be Shown In Courts, At Feasts, And High Solemnities, Where Most May Wonder At The Workmanship.

Mutual Love, The Crown Of All Our Bliss.

God Sure Esteems The Growth And Completing Of One Virtuous Person, More That The Restraint Of Ten Vicious.

Arm The Obdured Breast With Stubborn Patience As With Triple Steel.

Subdue By Force, Who Reason For Their Law Refuse, Right Reason For Their Law.

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