Thursday, November 18, 2010

Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear


FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race;
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more then what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when, as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd
And last of all thy greedy self consumed,
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss,
With an individual kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us, as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good,
And perfectly divine,
With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine,
About the supreme throne
Of Him, to whose happy-making sight, alone,
When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb,
Then all this earthly grossness quit,
Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time!


Fie upon this quiet life! said...

My goodness. What a story. (((RG)))

I do think that we need to remember that teaching is all about cultivating humanity. I tell my students all the time, "It's all about the meaning!" -- by which I mean, finding meaning in life, regardless of circumstances, is the most important thing there is. Now, if I could only practice what I preach all the time...

It's touching that this man made such an impression upon you. Perhaps now he knows it.

Anonymous said...

who is the author of this poem:

Renaissance Girl said...

John Milton