There is, said Michael, if thou well observe [ 530 ] The rule of not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, Till many years over thy head return: So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop [ 535 ] Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature: This is old age; but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To witherd weak and gray; thy Senses then [ 540 ] Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe, To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne A melancholly damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume [ 545 ] The Balme of Life.
Milton here saw us a soft, mild, kind way of our fall, our death. All are coming to an end as the result of our sin. Death come to all of us. In my point of view this is nice, comfortable view, instead our reality. Our painful fall to diseases and death. The end is not peaceful. For the most of the people is painful, violent and hard. But people always tried to calm our violent enviroment. Life never was easy for the human.