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Rhime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter...the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.

John Milton

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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Good
Poetry
Lame
Works
Verse
Especially
Bondage
Longer
Verses
Modern
Wretched
Adjunct
Age
Poem
Barbarous
True
Invention
Ornament
Matter
Necessary
Ornaments

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And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.
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But O yet more miserable! Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.
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Luck is the residue of design.
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Believe and be confirmed.
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Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose, like an exhalation.
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Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
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Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss.
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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
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Reason also is choice.
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Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works.
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Then might ye see Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers tost And flutter'd into rags then reliques, beads, Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, The sport of winds all these upwhirl'd aloft Fly to the rearward of the world far off Into a limbo large and broad, since called The paradise of fools.
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Joking decides great things, Stronger and better oft than earnest can.
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Ink is the blood of the printing-press.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand in the sight of God enthroned, our happy state hold, as you yours, while our obedience hold. On other surety none: freely we serve, because we freely love.
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Tis chastity, my brother, chastity She that has that is clad in complete steel, And, like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen, May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity.
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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.
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