They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld. Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate. With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose. Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
John MiltonAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: December 9, 1608
- Died: November 8, 1674
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But writers INVITE ghosts, maybe; along with actors andartists, they are the only totally accepted mediums of our society. They make worlds that neverwere, populate them with people who never existed, and then invite us to join them in theirfantasies. And we do it, don't we? Yes. We PAY to do it.
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