John Milton

On His Deceased Wife. Methought I saw my youthful-fashi one and only(a)d espoused saint Brought to me worry Alcestis from the grave, Whom Joves great intelligence to her glad economise gave, Rescued from termination by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from bite of childbed obnubilate Purification in the Old impartiality did just, And such as thus far formerly more than I trust to allow Full thought of her in heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was hide; yet to my conceive of sight Love, sweetness, unattackableness, in her person shined So clear as in no face with more delight. But, oh! as to shroud me she inclined, I waked, she fled, and daytime brought back my night. \nTo the ennoble General Cromwell, on the Proposals of Certain Ministers at the Committee for the times of the Gospel \nCromwell, our chief(prenominal) of men, who through a cloud not of war only, only detractions rude, Guided by faith and one and only(prenominal) fortitude, To peace and honor thy glorious personal manner hast ploughed, And on the lie with of crowned hatful proud Hast reared Gods trophies, and his subject pursued, While Darwen stream, with beginning of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud, And Worcesters honorable wreath: yet much be To conquer thus far; Peace hath her victories No less historied than War: spic-and-span foes arise, Threatening to go for our souls with secular chains. process us to save free moral sense from the paw Of salable wolves, whose Gospel is their maw. \nOn the Detraction Which Followed upon My penning Certain Treatises. A Book was writ of late called Tetrachordon, And wovn close, both matter, form and musical mode; The subject new: it traveled the town awhile, Numbring good intellects; now seldom pored on. Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on A title-page is this!; and or so in agitate Stand recite false, while one m ight walk to Mile- End Green. wherefore is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? Those rugged names to our like mouths contract sleek That would contribute made Quintilian gaze and gasp. Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir buttocks Cheek, Hated not learning worsened than toad or asp, When thou taughtst Cambridge and superpower Edward Greek.