Quotes
Quotes - Milton
So he with difficulty and labour hard
Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
And fast by, hanging in a golden chain,
This pendent world, in bigness as a star
Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
Hail holy light! offspring of heav'n first-born.
The rising world of waters dark and deep.
Thoughts that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers.
Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,
With joy and love triumphing.
Dark with excessive bright.
Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars,
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery.
Since call'd
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill
Where no ill seems.
The hell within him.
Now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd,--wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse.
At whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads.
A grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharg'd.
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.
Such joy ambition finds.
Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost.
Evil, be thou my good.
That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew,
Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.
Sabean odours from the spicy shore
Of Araby the Blest.
And on the Tree of Life,
The middle tree and highest there that grew,
Sat like a cormorant.
A heaven on earth.
Flowers worthy of paradise.
