Methought I saw my late espoused saint
Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,
Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave,
Rescu’d from death by force, though pale and faint.
Mine, as whom wash’d from spot of child-bed taint
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind;
Her face was veil’d, yet to my fancied sight
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin’d
So clear as in no face with more delight.
But Oh! as to embrace me she inclin’d, I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.
Losing a lover ain’t easy…
Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.
— Read Milton’s words ^ and think: Nietzsche’s abyss!!
A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.
— From Milton’s Areopagitica