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But hail thou Goddess sage and holy, Hail, divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue.
John Milton
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John Milton
Age: 65 †
Born: 1608
Born: December 9
Died: 1674
Died: November 8
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More quotes by John Milton
In discourse more sweet For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense. Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost.
John Milton
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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Law can discover sin, but not remove, Save by those shadowy expiations weak.
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United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise.
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Come and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe.
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
Evil into the mind of god or man may come and go, so unapproved, and leave no spot or blame behind.
John Milton
Assuredly we bring not innocence not the world, we bring impurity much rather: that which purifies us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary.
John Milton
What better can we do than prostrate fall before Him reverent, and there confess humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears watering the ground?
John Milton
So he with difficulty and labour hard Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.
John Milton
Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies.
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The great creator from his work returned Magnificent, his six days' work, a world.
John Milton
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
John Milton
And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
John Milton
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
John Milton
The starry cope Of heaven.
John Milton
Our torments also may in length of time Become our Elements.
John Milton
A limbo large and broad, since call'd The Paradise of Fools to few unknown.
John Milton
Death to life is crown or shame.
John Milton
Earth felt the wound and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.
John Milton