John Milton Quotes
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Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleas'd. Now glow'd the firmament With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
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Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal BenchOf British Themis, with no mean applausePronounced and in his volumes taught our Laws,Which others at their Bar so often wrench
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Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
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A short retirement urges a sweet return.
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
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Forget thyself to marble.
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No war or battle sound Was heard the world around.
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Such as may make thee search the coffers round.
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Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,Most musical, most melancholy!
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For what is glory but the blaze of fame?
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He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.
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From haunted spring and daleEdged with poplar paleThe parting genius is with sighing sent.
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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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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
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O nightingale, that on yon bloomy sprayWarbl'st at eve, when all the woods are still.
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In mirth that after no repenting draws.
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They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
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Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.
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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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But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began.
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A death-like sleep, A gentle wafting to immortal life.
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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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But see! theVirgin blessed Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending.
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Till old experience do attainTo something like prophetic strain.