- On Shakespeare
- Honoring the Bard in Folio
- Shakespeare's Monument
- Othello, A Model
- Iago the Villain
- Heavenly Airs
- Paradise Lost
- Heavenly Airs
- Aiming for the Woman
- Man's Undoing
Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, [ 5 ]
What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.
Paradise Lost Book III
But first he casts to change his proper shape, Which else might work him danger or delay: And now a stripling Cherub he appears, Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb Suitable grace diffused, so well he feigned; Under a coronet his flowing hair In curls on either cheek played, wings he wore Of many a colored plume sprinkled with gold, His habit fit for speed succinct, and held Before his decent steps a silver wand.
For neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through Heav’n and Earth: And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdom’s gate, and to simplicity The sharpest sighted spirit of all in Heav’n; Who to the fraudulent impostor foul In his uprightness answer thus returned. “Fair angel, thy desire which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorify The great Work-Master, leads to no excess That reaches blame, but rather merits praise The more it seems excess, that led thee hither From thy empyreal mansion thus alone, To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps Contented with report hear only in Heav’n:
"Divinity of Hell"