in discourse more sweet
(for eloquence the soul, song charms the sense,)
others apart sat on a hill retir'd,
in thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high
of providence, foreknowledge, will and fate,
fixt fate, free will, foreknowledge asbolute,
and found no end, in wandring mazes lost.
of good and evil much they argu'd then,
of happiness and final misery,
passion and apathie, and glory and shame,
vain wisdom all, and false philosophie:
yet with a pleasing sorcerie could charm
pain for a while or anguish, and excite
fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured brest
with stubborn patience as with triple steel.
-john milton paradise lost
Monday, October 27, 2008
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