To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652.

Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud
Not of warr onely, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude
To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,
And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud
Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu'd,
While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru'd,
And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud,
And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines
To conquer still; peace hath her victories
No less renownd then warr, new foes aries
Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines:
Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw
Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw.

John Milton

John Milton was an influential English poet, theologian, and intellectual. He is best known for his epic poem 'Paradise Lost,' which explores themes of rebellion, free will, and human fallibility. His works reflect his deep engagement with politics, religion, and linguistic innovation. Milton's literary contributions have cemented him as one of the most important figures in Western literature, and his writings continue to be studied and revered worldwide.

John Milton

Sonnets. XVIII

John Milton, Simple Poetry

The Hymn

John Milton, Simple Poetry

To Sir Henry Vane the Younger.

John Milton, Simple Poetry

On The Morning Of Christs Nativity.

John Milton, Simple Poetry

English

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On the Lord Gen. Fairfax at the Seige of Colchester.

Fairfax, whose name in armes through Europe rings
Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze,
And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,
Thy firm unshak'n vertue ever brings
Victory home, though new rebellions raise
Their Hydra heads, & the fals North displaies
Her brok'n league, to impe their serpent wings,
O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand;
Yet what can Warr, but endless warr still breed,
Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed,
And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand
Of Public Fraud.    In vain doth Valour bleed
While Avarice, & Rapine share the land.

John Milton

Milton.

Say not that England ever kingless was:
'Twixt Charles and Charles two royal men appear, -
Cromwell, to give her health with arms and laws,
And Milton, thou, to speak out loud and clear
For freedom of man's conscience and the state,
For England and her deeds before the world,
And for the victims of religious hate
From Alpine summits pitilessly hurl'd.

Thou wast a Champion of Liberty:
In fair Italian cities thou had'st heard
Her voice upon the north wind summon thee,
And, like another Moses, had'st preferr'd
Affliction with thy brethren to the lure
Of beauty, art and cultur'd ease secure.

W. M. MacKeracher

On the new forcers of Conscience under the Long Parliament.

Because you have thrown of your Prelate Lord,
And with stiff Vowes renounc'd his Liturgie
To seise the widdow'd whore Pluralitie
From them whose sin ye envi'd, not abhor'd,
Dare ye for this adjure the Civill Sword
To force our Consciences that Christ set free,
And ride us with a classic Hierarchy
Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?
Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul
Must now he nam'd and printed Hereticks
By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call:
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
Your plots and packing wors then those of Trent,
That so the Parliament
May with their wholsom and preventive Shears
Clip your Phylacteries, though bauk your Ears,
And succour our just Fears
When th...

John Milton

Milton's Appeal To Cromwell.

("Non! je n'y puis tenir.")

[CROMWELL, Act III. sc. iv.]


Stay! I no longer can contain myself,
But cry you: Look on John, who bares his mind
To Oliver - to Cromwell, Milton speaks!
Despite a kindling eye and marvel deep
A voice is lifted up without your leave;
For I was never placed at council board
To speak my promptings. When awed strangers come
Who've seen Fox-Mazarin wince at the stings
In my epistles - and bring admiring votes
Of learned colleges, they strain to see
My figure in the glare - the usher utters,
"Behold and hearken! that's my Lord Protector's
Cousin - that, his son-in-law - that next" - who cares!
Some perfumed puppet! "Milton?" "He in black -
Yon silent scribe who trims their eloquence!"
Still 'chroniclin...

Victor-Marie Hugo

Psal. III. When he fled from Absalom.

Lord how many are my foes
How many those
That in arms against me rise
Many are they
That of my life distrustfully thus say,
No help for him in God there lies.
But thou Lord art my shield my glory,
Thee through my story
Th' exalter of my head I count
Aloud I cry'd
Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and slept, I wak'd again,
For my sustain
Was the Lord. Of many millions
The populous rout
I fear not though incamping round about
They pitch against me their Pavillions.
Rise Lord, save me my God for thou
Hast smote ere now
On the cheek-bone all my foes,
Of men abhor'd
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord;
Thy blessing on thy people flows.

John Milton

Marston Moor

The armies met on Marston Moor,
'Midst lightning's flash and thunder's roar;
As murky clouds sweep o'er the sky,
God's cannonade with man's will vie.
The Royalists in phalanx strong,
By fiery Rupert led along,
From Bolton's cruel massacre
Towards York, in hope to keep it free
From the Roundheads at any cost.
"If York be lost, my crown is lost"--
Wrote Charles to this trusted chief,
And he must bring it prompt relief.
The foe's true strength he did not know,
But dazzled much by victory's glow
He hoped with ease to overthrow
The untrained volunteers;
Nor did he for brave Cromwell care,
Tho' he had asked "is Cromwell there?"
Would not his grenadiers
Scatter those yeomen to their fields,
To hold their ploughs instead of shields?
Thus confi...

Joseph Horatio Chant