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A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
Poet
Politician
Writer
Singing
Poet
Garland
High
Fancies
Reason
Soaring
Garlands
Robes
Soar
Fancy
More quotes by John Milton
If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.
John Milton
First Moloch, horrid king, besmirched in blood, Of Human sacrifice, and parent's tears, Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, Their childrens' cries unheard, that passed through fire, To his grim idol.
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So on this windy sea of land, the Fiend Walked up and down alone bent on his prey.
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Infinity is a dark illimitable ocean, without bound.
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He who tempts, though in vain, at last asperses The tempted with dishonor foul, supposed Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation.
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Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.
John Milton
And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
John Milton
Nor think thou with wind Of æry threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not.
John Milton
The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and dischargd what burden then?
John Milton
Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round
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Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay, is division itself. To couple hatred, therefore, though wedlock try all her golden links, and borrow to tier aid all the iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to twist a rope of sand.
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Nor love thy life, nor hate but what thou livest, Live well how long, or short, permit to Heaven.
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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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Where all life dies death lives.
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We read not that Christ ever exercised force but once and that was to drive profane ones out of his Temple, not to force them in.
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And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit he over thee shall rule.
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From haunted spring and dale Edg'd with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
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To live a life half dead, a living death.
John Milton
O Conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driven me, out of which I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged.
John Milton
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
John Milton
