But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.
John MiltonMust I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?
John MiltonIn dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
John MiltonThe other shape, If shape it might be call'd that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either,--black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand.
John Milton