Aarons Blog

LIGHT

by: John Milton (1608-1674)

•  

  AIL holy light, ofspring of Heav’n first-born,

  Or of th’ Eternal Coeternal beam

  May I express thee unblam’d? since God is light,

  And never but in unapproachèd light

  Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,

  Bright effluence of bright essence increate.

  Or hear’st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,

  Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,

  Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice

  Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest

  The rising world of waters dark and deep,

  Won from the void and formless infinite.

  Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,

  Escap’t the Stygian Pool, though long detain’d

  In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight

  Through utter and through middle darkness borne

  With other notes then to th’ Orphean Lyre

  I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,

  Taught by the heav’nly Muse to venture down

  The dark descent, and up to reascend,

  Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,

  And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou

  Revisit’st not these eyes, that rowle in vain

  To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;

  So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,

  Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more

  Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt

  Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,

  Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief

  Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath

  That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,

  Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget

  Those other two equal’d with me in Fate,

  So were I equal’d with them in renown.

  Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,

  And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.

  Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move

  Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird

  Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid

  Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year

  Seasons return, but not to me returns

  Day, or the sweet approach of Ev’n or Morn,

  Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,

  Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;

  But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark

  Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men

  Cut off, and for the Book of knowledge fair

  Presented with a Universal blanc

  Of Natures works to mee expung’d and ras’d,

  And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.

  So much the rather thou Celestial light

  Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers

  Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence

  Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell

  Of things invisible to mortal sight

LIGHT

by: John Milton (1608-1674)

•  

  AIL holy light, ofspring of Heav’n first-born,

  Or of th’ Eternal Coeternal beam

  May I express thee unblam’d? since God is light,

  And never but in unapproachèd light

  Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,

  Bright effluence of bright essence increate.

  Or hear’st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,

  Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,

  Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice

  Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest

  The rising world of waters dark and deep,

  Won from the void and formless infinite.

  Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,

  Escap’t the Stygian Pool, though long detain’d

  In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight

  Through utter and through middle darkness borne

  With other notes then to th’ Orphean Lyre

  I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,

  Taught by the heav’nly Muse to venture down

  The dark descent, and up to reascend,

  Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,

  And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou

  Revisit’st not these eyes, that rowle in vain

  To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;

  So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,

  Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more

  Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt

  Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,

  Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief

  Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath

  That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,

  Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget

  Those other two equal’d with me in Fate,

  So were I equal’d with them in renown.

  Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,

  And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.

  Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move

  Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird

  Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid

  Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year

  Seasons return, but not to me returns

  Day, or the sweet approach of Ev’n or Morn,

  Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,

  Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;

  But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark

  Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men

  Cut off, and for the Book of knowledge fair

  Presented with a Universal blanc

  Of Natures works to mee expung’d and ras’d,

  And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.

  So much the rather thou Celestial light

  Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers

  Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence

  Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell

  Of things invisible to mortal sight

My favorite moment at mariner is at the end of the year every year how all the bus driver honk there horns to signal the end of the year

Warm summer days
Cold winter nights

Warm summer days
Cold winter nights

Sliding on a water slide
Stuck in inside
Ice cream in the summer
No heat in the winter

Amusement parks all night
Freezing in the corner of the field
Swimming in the ocean all day long
Waiting for summer to come

Warm summer days
Cold winter nights

 MOM

Her passion for books is almost as

much as her passon for her family,

Hands as smooth as a summer rose,

Taking pictures of people in her life,

Getting honors for her gorgeous pictures,

Rose red shirt,

Faded old jeans,

Remembering the days of working on trucks,

Blackened hands witha warm smile.

Dedicated to:

Tina Bradford