Quotes

Quotes - Milton


Forget thyself to marble.

John Milton

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.

John Milton

And add to these retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.

John Milton

Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!

John Milton

I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven green,
To behold the wandering moon
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav'n's wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head she bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

John Milton

Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.

John Milton

Far from all resort of mirth
Save the cricket on the hearth.

John Milton

Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.

John Milton

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

John Milton

Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold.

John Milton

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

John Milton

When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.

John Milton

Hide me from day's garish eye.

John Milton

And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.

John Milton

Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

John Milton

Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.

John Milton

Under the shady roof
Of branching elm star-proof.

John Milton

O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly.

John Milton

Such as may make thee search the coffers round.

John Milton

No war or battle's sound
Was heard the world around.

John Milton

Time will run back and fetch the age of gold.

John Milton

Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

John Milton

The oracles are dumb,
No voice or hideous hum
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance or breathed spell
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

John Milton

From haunted spring and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale
The parting genius is with sighing sent.

John Milton

Peor and Baälim
Forsake their temples dim.

John Milton

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