John Milton Quotes
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So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
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And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
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Of four infernal rivers that disgorge/ Into the burning Lake their baleful streams;/Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,/Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;/Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud/ Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon/ Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage./ Far off from these a slow and silent stream,/ Lethe the River of Oblivion rolls/ Her wat'ry Labyrinth whereof who drinks,/ Forthwith his former state and being forgets,/ Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.
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Such as may make thee search the coffers round.
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O execrable son! so to aspire Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurped, from God not given. He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation; but man over men He made not lord; such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free.
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?
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And if by prayer Incessant I could hope to change the will Of Him who all things can, I would not cease To weary Him with my assiduous cries.
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Justice divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.
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Me miserable! Which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep, Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
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...how wearisom Eternity so spent in worship paid To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtain'd Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek Our own good from our selves, and from our own Live to our selves, though in this vast recess, Free, and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easie yoke Of servile Pomp
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What is dark within me, illumine.
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Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.
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Hence, loathèd Melancholy,Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,In Stygian cave forlorn,'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.
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Only this I know, That one celestial father gives to all.
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Forget thyself to marble.
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It was that fatal and perfidious bark,Built in th' eclipse, and rigged with curses dark,That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
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Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize,If ever deed of honour did thee please,Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.
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To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
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Immortal amarant, a flower which once In paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence To heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows, And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life, And where the river of bliss through midst of heaven Rolls o'er elysian flowers her amber stream: With these that never fade the spirits elect Bind their resplendent locks.
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Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.