-
No war, or battle's soundWas heard the world around.The idle spear and shield were high up hung.
John Milton
-
Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life.
John Milton
-
A short retirement urges a sweet return.
John Milton
-
The brazen throat of war.
John Milton
-
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
John Milton
-
All seemed well pleased, all seemed, but were not all.
John Milton
-
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
John Milton
-
Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
John Milton
-
The power of Kings and Magistrates is nothing else, but what is only derivative, transferrd and committed to them in trust from the People, to the Common good of them all, in whom the power yet remaines fundamentally, and cannot be takn from them, without a violation of thir natural birthright.
John Milton
-
Implied Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,- Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.
John Milton
-
At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue:Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
John Milton
-
Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end wilt find Offering, from the paths of truth remote.
John Milton
-
So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
John Milton
-
For no falsehood can endure Touch of celestial temper.
John Milton
-
Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war.
John Milton
-
A death-like sleep, A gentle wafting to immortal life.
John Milton
-
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.
John Milton
-
As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes.
John Milton
-
A man may be ungrateful, but the human race is not so.
John Milton
-
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.
John Milton
-
The greatest burden in the world is superstition, not only of ceremonies in the church, but of imaginary and scarecrow sins at home.
John Milton
-
And in their motions harmony divine So smoothes her charming tones, that God's own ear Listens delighted.
John Milton
-
A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.
John Milton
-
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.
John Milton
