John Milton

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John Milton (1608 - 1674)

An English poet, Milton's early works include the pastoral poems L'allegro and Il penseroso (1632), the masque Comus (written in 1633 in collaboration with the musician Henry Lawes), and the elegy Lycidas (1637). Among his latter works are Paradise Lost (1667), Paradise Regained (1677), and the classic drama Samson Agonistes (1677). Milton's first published poem was "On Shakespeare," an epitaph printed in the Second Folio (1632) of Shakespeare's plays.

Born in London in 1608, his "niceness of nature" and "honest haughtiness," as well as his flowing locks, earned him the nickname "the lady of Christ's" at Christ's College, Cambridge when he attended there. His middle years were devoted to the Puritan Cause and pamphleteering, including one advocating divorce and another advocating freedom of the press. He was (Latin) secretary in 1649 to Oliver Cromwell. Although he supported the execution of King Charles in 1649, he was saved from any danger of the loss of his life with the restoration of the monarchy in 1660. He married three times, had three daughters, and was able to live out his last years writing poetry, despite the blindness which had overtaken him completely by 1652.

On His Blindness
(Written in 1652)

When I consider how my light is spent
       Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
       And that one talent which is death to hide
       Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve me therewith my Maker, and present
       My true account, lest He returning chide,
       "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
       I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
       Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
       Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed,
       And post o'er land and ocean without rest ;
       They also serve who only stand and wait.

from Samson Agonistes

SEMI-CHORUS OF THE DANITES:
While their hearts were jocund and sublime,
Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine
And fat regorged of bulls and goats,
Chaunting their idol, and preferring
Before our living Dread, who dwells
In Silo, his bright sanctuary,
Among them he a spirit of phrenzy sent,
Who hurt their minds,
And urged them on with mad desire
To call in haste for their destroyer.
They, only set on sport and play,
Unweetingly importuned
Their own destruction to come speedily upon them.
So fond are mortal men,
Fallen into wrath divine,
As their own ruin on themselves to invite,
Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
And with blindness internal struck.