Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
Hell’s dread Emperor.
Vain war with Heaven; and, by success untaught, His proud imaginations thus displayed: –.
Thus with the Year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of Ev’n or Morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledg fair Presented with a Universal blanc Of Natures works to mee expung’d and ras’d, And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.
Had anyone written and divulged erroneous things and scandalous to honest life, misusing and forfeiting the esteem had of his reason among men, if after conviction this only censure were adjudged him that he should never henceforth write.
His blessed count’nance; here I could frequent, With worship, place by place where he voutsaf’d Presence Divine, and to my Sons relate; On this Mount he appeerd, under this Tree Stood visible, among these Pines his voice I heard, here with him at this Fountain talk’d: So.
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down Warring in Heaven against Heaven’s matchless King:.
Unfast’ns: on a sudden op’n flie With impetuous recoile and jarring sound Th’ infernal dores, and on thir hinges great Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus. She op’nd, but to shut Excel’d her power; the Gates wide op’n.
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded; and Heav’n Gates Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands Pursuing. I upon my Frontieres here Keep.
May I express thee unblam’d? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate. Or.
For what can war but endless war still breed?” – Sonnet 15.
Truth in its entirety is but the ideal transcript of the universe. It is the mirrored reflection of all fact and being – the thought and will of the Creator as written and revealed by all that exists, material and spiritual, with all their laws, relations, changes, evolutions, and history. More – the.
Promiscuous reading is necessary to the constituting of human nature.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God’s image, but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.
For indeed none can love freedom heartily, but good men: the rest love not freedom, but license: which never hath more scope, or more indulgence than under tyrants... consequently neither do bad men hate tyrants, but have always been readiest with falsified names of Loyalty and Obedience to color over their base compliance.
For indeed none can love freedom heartily, but good men: the rest love not freedom, but license: which never hath more scope, or more indulgence than under tyrants.
Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell! As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please?
The towers of Heaven are filled With armed watch that render all access Impregnable,; oft on the bordering deep Encamp their legions or with obscure wing Scout far and wide into the realm of night, Scorning surprise.
Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, That wash thy hallowed feet and warbling flow, Nightly I visit.
All the sanctities of Heaven Stood thick as stars...
With borrowed light her countenance triform Hence fills and empties to enlighten the earth, And in her pale dominion checks the night.