Il Penseroso Hence, vain deluding joys, The brood of folly without father bred! How little you bestead, Or may at best, your little anodyne Varnish my heavy woes and sharpen’d mind. Here, receive me, in this leaden shade, I will dislodge your wiles, and wretched pride, For here’s a tomb, whose fate not requires toil. While I pursue the utmost light, Keep watch, O shades, that in nature’s fair delight, I prove my worth and take the lofty flight.

• John Milton