The Poetical Works of John Milton


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On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,  
Like turbulencies in the affairs of men,  
Over whose heads they rore, and seem to point,  
They oft fore-signifie and threaten ill:  
This Tempest at this Desert most was bent;  
Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st.  
Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject  
The perfet season offer'd with my aid  
To win thy destin'd seat, but wilt prolong  
All to the push of Fate, persue thy way  
470  
Of gaining David's Throne no man knows when,  
For both the when and how is no where told,  
Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt;  
For Angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing  
The time and means: each act is rightliest done,  
Not when it must, but when it may be best.  
If thou observe not this, be sure to find,  
What I foretold thee, many a hard assay  
Of dangers, and adversities and pains,  
E're thou of Israel's Scepter get fast hold;  
Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round,  
So many terrors, voices, prodigies  
480  
May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.  
So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on  
And staid not, but in brief him answer'd thus.  
Mee worse then wet thou find'st not; other harm  
702  


Page
700 701 702 703 704

Quick Jump
1 198 395 593 790