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Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Part
Liver
Live
Spirits
Heart
Vital
Every
Throughout
Men
Head
Annihilating
Dies
Entrails
Spirit
Reins
Cannot
Frail
More quotes by John Milton
Freely we serve, Because we freely love, as in our will To love or not in this we stand or fall.
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I must not quarrel with the will Of highest dispensation, which herein, Haply had ends above my reach to know.
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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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Lords are lordliest in their wine.
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Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.
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But all was false and hollow though his tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, 4 to perplex and dash Maturest counsels.
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I on the other side Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.
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His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command. Ibid.
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Oft, on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfew sound Over some wide-watered shore, Swinging low with sullen roar.
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And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained?
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O why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n With Spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men as angels without feminine, Or find some other way to generate Mankind?
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Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine.
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Zeal and duty are not slow But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.
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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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Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies.
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And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
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Perplexed and troubled at his bad success The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope.
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Among the writers of all ages, some deserve fame, and have it others neither have nor deserve it some have it, not deserving it others, though deserving it, yet totally miss it, or have it not equal to their deserts.
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Nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study household good, And good works in her husband to promote.
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The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this soil Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon.
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