John Milton Quotes
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
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Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.
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His words … like so many nimble and airy servitors trip about him at command.
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Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
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Each tree Laden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite To pluck and eat.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.
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From haunted spring and daleEdged with poplar paleThe parting genius is with sighing sent.
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And the earth self-balanced on her centre hung.
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Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire! Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
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And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
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It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, That woman's love can win, or long inherit; But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit.
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This is the month, and this the happy morn,Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King,Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,Our great redemption from above did bring;For so the holy sages once did sing,That He our deadly forfeit should release,And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.
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O nightingale, that on yon bloomy sprayWarbl'st at eve, when all the woods are still.
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Virtue that wavers is not virtue, but vice revolted from itself, and after a while returning. The actions of just and pious men do not darken in their middle course.
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Thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers-- If these magnific titles yet remain Not merely titular.
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Such as may make thee search the coffers round.
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Justice divine Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.
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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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Govern well thy appetite, lest Sin surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.
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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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If at great things thou would'st arrive, Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, Not difficult, if thou hearken to me; Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand, They whom I favor thrive in wealth amain, While virtue, valor, wisdom, sit in want.
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These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward.