John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
John Milton 1608-1674 John Bartlett
| Of Man’s first disobedience, and the fruit|
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 1.|
| Or if Sion hill|
Delight thee more, and Siloa’s brook, that flow’d
Fast by the oracle of God.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 10.|
|Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.|
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 16.|
| What in me is dark|
Illumine, what is low raise and support,
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men. 1
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 22.|
|As far as angels’ ken.|
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 59.|
| Yet from those flames|
No light, but rather darkness visible.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 62.|
| Where peace|
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 65.|
| What though the field be lost?|
All is not lost; th’ unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 105.|
| To be weak is miserable,|
Doing or suffering.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 157.|
|And out of good still to find means of evil.|
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 165.|
| Farewell happy fields,|
Where joy forever dwells: hail, horrors!
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 249.|
| A mind not to be chang’d by place or time.|
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. 2
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 253.|
| Here we may reign secure; and in my choice|
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 261.|
| Heard so oft|
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 275.|
| His spear, to equal which the tallest pine|
Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast
Of some great ammiral were but a wand,
He walk’d with to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 292.|
| Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks|
In Vallombrosa, where th’ Etrurian shades
High over-arch’d imbower.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 302.|
|Awake, arise, or be forever fallen!|
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 330.|
| Spirits when they please|
Can either sex assume, or both.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 423.|
|Execute their airy purposes.|
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 430.|
| When night|
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 500.|
| Th’ imperial ensign, which full high advanc’d|
Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind. 3
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 536.|
| Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:|
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell’s concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 540.|
| Anon they move|
In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Of flutes and soft recorders.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 549.|
| His form had yet not lost|
All her original brightness, nor appear’d
Less than archangel ruin’d, and th’ excess
Of glory obscur’d.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 591.|
| In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds|
On half the nations, and with fear of change
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 597.|
| Thrice he assay’d, and thrice in spite of scorn|
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 619.|
| Who overcomes|
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 648.|
| Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell|
From heaven; for ev’n in heaven his looks and thoughts
Were always downward bent, admiring more
The riches of heaven’s pavement, trodden gold,
Than aught divine or holy else enjoy’d
In vision beatific.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 679.|
| Let none admire|
That riches grow in hell: that soil may best
Deserve the precious bane.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 690.|
| Anon out of the earth a fabric huge|
Rose, like an exhalation.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 710.|
| From morn|
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,—
A summer’s day; and with the setting sun
Dropp’d from the Zenith like a falling star.
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 742.|
| Fairy elves,|
Whose midnight revels by a forest side
Or fountain some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
|Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 781.|
| High on a throne of royal state, which far|
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat, by merit rais’d
To that bad eminence.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1.|
| Surer to prosper than prosperity|
Could have assur’d us.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 39.|
| The strongest and the fiercest spirit|
That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 44.|
| Rather than be less,|
Car’d not to be at all.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 47.|
|My sentence is for open war.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 51.|
| That in our proper motion we ascend|
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 75.|
| When the scourge|
Inexorable and the torturing hour
Call us to penance.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 90.|
|Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 105.|
| 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
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 112.|
| Th’ ethereal mould|
Incapable of stain would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repuls’d, our final hope
Is flat despair. 5
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 139.|
| For who would lose,|
Though full of pain this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallow’d up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night?
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 146.|
|His red right hand. 6|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 174.|
|Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev’d.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 185.|
| The never-ending flight|
Of future days.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 221.|
| Our torments also may in length of time|
Become our elements.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 274.|
| With grave|
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem’d
A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat, and public care;
And princely counsel in his face yet shone,
Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood,
With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear
The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look
Drew audience and attention still as night
Or summer’s noontide air.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 300.|
|The palpable obscure.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 406.|
| Long is the way|
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 432.|
| Their rising all at once was as the sound|
Of thunder heard remote.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 476.|
| The low’ring element|
Scowls o’er the darken’d landscape.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 490.|
| Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn’d|
Firm concord holds, men only disagree
Of creatures rational.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 496.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 555.|
|Vain wisdom all and false philosophy.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 565.|
| Arm th’ obdur’d breast|
With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 568.|
| A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog|
Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old,
Where armies whole have sunk: the parching air
Burns frore, and cold performs th’ effect of fire.
Thither by harpy-footed Furies hal’d,
At certain revolutions all the damn’d
Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change
Of fierce extremes,—extremes by change more fierce;
From beds of raging fire to starve in ice
Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine
Immovable, infix’d, and frozen round,
Periods of time; thence hurried back to fire.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 592.|
| O’er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,|
Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 620.|
|Gorgons and Hydras and Chimæras dire.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 628.|
| The other shape,|
If shape it might be call’d that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;
Or substance might be call’d that shadow seem’d,
For each seem’d either,—black it stood as night,
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell,
And shook a dreadful dart; what seem’d his head
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Satan was now at hand.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 666.|
|Whence and what art thou, execrable shape?|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 681.|
| Back to thy punishment,|
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 699.|
|So spake the grisly Terror.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 704.|
| Incens’d with indignation Satan stood|
Unterrify’d, and like a comet burn’d
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th’ arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 707.|
| Their fatal hands|
No second stroke intend.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 712.|
Grew darker at their frown.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 719.|
| I fled, and cry’d out, DEATH!|
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh’d
From all her caves, and back resounded, DEATH!
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 787.|
| Before mine eyes in opposition sits|
Grim Death, my son and foe.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 803.|
Grinn’d horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be fill’d.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 845.|
| On a sudden open fly,|
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound,
Th’ infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 879.|
| Where eldest Night|
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal anarchy amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand;
For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce,
Strive here for mast’ry.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 894.|
| Into this wild abyss,|
The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 910.|
| To compare|
Great things with small. 7
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 921.|
| O’er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,|
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way,
And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 948.|
| With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,|
Confusion worse confounded.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 995.|
| So he with difficulty and labour hard|
Mov’d on, with difficulty and labour he.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1021.|
| And fast by, hanging in a golden chain,|
This pendent world, in bigness as a star
Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.
|Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1051.|
|Hail holy light! offspring of heav’n first-born.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 1.|
|The rising world of waters dark and deep.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 11.|
| Thoughts that voluntary move|
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 37.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 40.|
|Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 99.|
| See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,|
With joy and love triumphing.
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 337.|
|Dark with excessive bright.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 380.|
| Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars,|
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery.
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 474.|
| Since call’d|
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown.
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 495.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book iii. Line 686.|
|The hell within him.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 20.|
| Now conscience wakes despair|
That slumber’d,—wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 23.|
| At whose sight all the stars|
Hide their diminish’d heads. 8
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 34.|
| A grateful mind|
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharg’d.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 55.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 73.|
|Such joy ambition finds.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 92.|
| Ease would recant|
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 96.|
| So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,|
Farewell remorse; all good to me is lost.
Evil, be thou my good.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 108.|
| That practis’d falsehood under saintly shew,|
Deep malice to conceal, couch’d with revenge.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 122.|
| Sabean odours from the spicy shore|
Of Araby the Blest.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 162.|
| And on the Tree of Life,|
The middle tree and highest there that grew,
Sat like a cormorant.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 194.|
|A heaven on earth.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 208.|
|Flowers worthy of paradise.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 241.|
|Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. 9|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 256.|
| Proserpine gathering flowers,|
Herself a fairer flower.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 269.|
| For contemplation he and valour form’d,|
For softness she and sweet attractive grace;
He for God only, she for God in him.
His fair large front and eye sublime declar’d
Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 297.|
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.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 307.|
| Adam the goodliest man of men since born|
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 323.|
| And with necessity,|
The tyrant’s plea, 10 excus’d his devilish deeds.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 393.|
| As Jupiter|
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
That shed May flowers.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 499.|
|Imparadis’d in one another’s arms.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 506.|
| Live while ye may,|
Yet happy pair.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 533.|
| Now came still evening on, and twilight gray|
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompany’d; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas’d. Now glow’d the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil’d her peerless light,
And o’er the dark her silver mantle threw.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 598.|
|The timely dew of sleep.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 614.|
| With thee conversing I forget all time,|
All seasons, and their change,—all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glist’ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful ev’ning mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glist’ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful ev’ning mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 639.|
| Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth|
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 677.|
| In naked beauty more adorn’d,|
More lovely than Pandora. 11
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 713.|
| Eas’d the putting off|
These troublesome disguises which we wear.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 739.|
| Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source|
Of human offspring.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 750.|
|Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 800.|
| Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear|
Touch’d lightly; for no falsehood can endure
Touch of celestial temper.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 810.|
| Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,|
The lowest of your throng.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 830.|
| Abash’d the devil stood,|
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how lovely.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 846.|
|All hell broke loose.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 918.|
|Like Teneriff or Atlas unremoved.|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 987.|
| The starry cope|
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 992.|
Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
|Paradise Lost. Book iv. Line 1014.|
| Now morn, her rosy steps in th’ eastern clime|
Advancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak’d, so custom’d; for his sleep
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 1.|
| Hung over her enamour’d, and beheld|
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 13.|
| My latest found,|
Heaven’s last, best gift, my ever new delight!
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 18.|
| Good, the more|
Communicated, more abundant grows.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 71.|
|These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!|
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 153.|
| Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,|
If better thou belong not to the dawn.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 166.|
|A wilderness of sweets.|
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 294.|
| Another morn|
Ris’n on mid-noon.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 310.|
| So saying, with despatchful looks in haste|
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 331.|
| Nor jealousy|
Was understood, the injur’d lover’s hell.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 449.|
|The bright consummate flower.|
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 481.|
|Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers.|
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 601.|
| They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet|
Quaff immortality and joy.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 637.|
| Satan; so call him now, his former name|
Is heard no more in heaven.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 658.|
| Midnight brought on the dusky hour|
Friendliest to sleep and silence.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 667.|
| Innumerable as the stars of night,|
Or stars of morning, dewdrops which the sun
Impearls on every leaf and every flower.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 745.|
| So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found;|
Among the faithless, faithful only he.
|Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 896.|
Wak’d by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarr’d the gates of light.
|Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 2.|
| Servant of God, well done; well hast thou fought|
The better fight.
|Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 29.|
| Arms on armour clashing bray’d|
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots rag’d: dire was the noise
|Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 209.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 345.|
|Far off his coming shone.|
|Paradise Lost. Book vi. Line 768.|
| More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang’d|
To hoarse or mute, though fall’n on evil days,
On evil days though fall’n, and evil tongues.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 24.|
| Still govern thou my song,|
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 30.|
| Heaven open’d wide|
Her ever during gates, harmonious sound,
On golden hinges moving.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 205.|
| Hither, as to their fountain, other stars|
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 364.|
| Now half appear’d|
The tawny lion, pawing to get free
His hinder parts.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 463.|
With sanctity of reason.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 507.|
| A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold,|
And pavement stars,—as stars to thee appear
Seen in the galaxy, that milky way
Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest
Powder’d with stars.
|Paradise Lost. Book vii. Line 577.|
| 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.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 1.|
| There swift return|
Diurnal, merely to officiate light
Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 21.|
|And grace that won who saw to wish her stay.|
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 43.|
|And touch’d by her fair tendance, gladlier grew.|
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 47.|
| With centric and eccentric scribbled o’er,|
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 83.|
| Her silent course advance|
With inoffensive pace, that spinning sleeps
On her soft axle.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 163.|
| Be lowly wise:|
Think only what concerns thee and thy being.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 173.|
| To know|
That which before us lies in daily life
Is the prime wisdom.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 192.|
|Liquid lapse of murmuring streams.|
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 263.|
|And feel that I am happier than I know.|
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 282.|
| Among unequals what society|
Can sort, what harmony, or true delight?
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 383.|
| Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,|
In every gesture dignity and love.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 488.|
| Her virtue and the conscience of her worth,|
That would be woo’d, and not unsought be won.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 502.|
| She what was honour knew,|
And with obsequious majesty approv’d
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower
I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven
And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper’d it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 508.|
|The sum of earthly bliss.|
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 522.|
| So well to know|
Her own, that what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 548.|
| Accuse not Nature: she hath done her part;|
Do thou but thine.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 561.|
| Oft times nothing profits more|
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right
Well manag’d. 12
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 571.|
| Those graceful acts,|
Those thousand decencies that daily flow
From all her words and actions.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 610.|
| With a smile that glow’d|
Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue.
|Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 618.|
|My unpremeditated verse.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 24.|
|Pleas’d me, long choosing and beginning late.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 26.|
| Unless an age too late, or cold|
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 44.|
| Revenge, at first though sweet,|
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 171.|
| The work under our labour grows,|
Luxurious by restraint.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 208.|
| Smiles from reason flow,|
To brute deny’d, and are of love the food.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 239.|
| For solitude sometimes is best society,|
And short retirement urges sweet return.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 249.|
|At shut of evening flowers.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 278.|
| As one who long in populous city pent,|
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 445.|
|So gloz’d the tempter.|
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 549.|
| Hope elevates, and joy|
Brightens his crest.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 633.|
| Left that command|
Sole daughter of his voice. 13
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 652.|
| Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,|
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe
That all was lost.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 782.|
| In her face excuse|
Came prologue, and apology too prompt.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 853.|
| A pillar’d shade|
High overarch’d, and echoing walks between.
|Paradise Lost. Book ix. Line 1106.|
| Yet I shall temper so|
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfy’d, and thee appease.
|Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 77.|
| So scented the grim Feature, and upturn’d|
His nostril wide into the murky air,
Sagacious of his quarry from so far.
|Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 279.|
| How gladly would I meet|
Mortality my sentence, and be earth
Insensible! how glad would lay me down
As in my mother’s lap!
|Paradise Lost. Book x. Line 775.|
| Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?—thus leave|
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 269.|
| Then purg’d with euphrasy and rue|
The visual nerve, for he had much to see.
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 414.|
| Moping melancholy|
And moon-struck madness.
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 485.|
| And over them triumphant Death his dart|
Shook, but delay’d to strike, though oft invok’d.
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 491.|
| So may’st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop|
Into thy mother’s lap.
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 535.|
| Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv’st|
Live well: how long or short permit to heaven. 14
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 553.|
|A bevy of fair women.|
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 582.|
|The brazen throat of war.|
|Paradise Lost. Book xi. Line 713.|
| Some natural tears they dropp’d, but wip’d them soon;|
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
They hand in hand, with wand’ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.
|Paradise Lost. Book xii. Line 645.|
| Beauty stands|
In the admiration only of weak minds
|Paradise Regained. Book ii. Line 220.|
|Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck’d.|
|Paradise Regained. Book ii. Line 228.|
|Of whom to be disprais’d were no small praise.|
|Paradise Regained. Book iii. Line 56.|
|Elephants endors’d with towers.|
|Paradise Regained. Book iii. Line 329.|
| Syene, and where the shadow both way falls,|
Meroe, Nilotic isle.
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 70.|
|Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath’d.|
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 76.|
| The childhood shows the man,|
As morning shows the day. 15
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 220.|
| Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts|
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 240.|
| The olive grove of Academe,|
Plato’s retirement, where the Attic bird
Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long.
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 244.|
| Thence to the famous orators repair,|
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Wielded at will that fierce democratie,
Shook the arsenal, and fulmin’d over Greece,
To Macedon, and Artaxerxes’ throne.
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 267.|
Whom well inspir’d the oracle pronounc’d
Wisest of men.
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 274.|
|Deep vers’d in books, and shallow in himself.|
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 327.|
| As children gath’ring pebbles on the shore.|
Or if I would delight my private hours
With music or with poem, where so soon
As in our native language can I find
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 330.|
| Till morning fair|
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray.
|Paradise Regained. Book iv. Line 426.|
| O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,|
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse
Without all hope of day!
|Samson Agonistes. Line 80.|
| The sun to me is dark|
And silent as the moon,
When she deserts the night
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 86.|
| Ran on embattled armies clad in iron,|
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 129.|
| Just are the ways of God,|
And justifiable to men;
Unless there be who think not God at all.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 293.|
| What boots it at one gate to make defence,|
And at another to let in the foe?
|Samson Agonistes. Line 560.|
| But who is this, what thing of sea or land,—|
Female of sex it seems,—
That so bedeck’d, ornate, and gay,
Comes this way sailing
Like a stately ship
Of Tarsus, bound for th’ isles
Of Javan or Gadire,
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,
Sails fill’d, and streamers waving,
Courted by all the winds that hold them play,
An amber scent of odorous perfume
|Samson Agonistes. Line 710.|
| Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power,|
After offence returning, to regain
Love once possess’d.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 1003.|
| He ’s gone, and who knows how he may report|
Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?
|Samson Agonistes. Line 1350.|
|For evil news rides post, while good news baits.|
|Samson Agonistes. Line 1538.|
| And as an ev’ning dragon came,|
Assailant on the perched roosts
And nests in order rang’d
Of tame villatic fowl.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 1692.|
| Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail|
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame,—nothing but well and fair,
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
|Samson Agonistes. Line 1721.|
| Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot|
Which men call earth.
|Comus. Line 5.|
| That golden key|
That opes the palace of eternity.
|Comus. Line 13.|
| The nodding horror of whose shady brows|
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.
|Comus. Line 38.|
| I will tell you now|
What never yet was heard in tale or song,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.
|Comus. Line 43.|
| Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape|
Crush’d the sweet poison of misused wine.
|Comus. Line 46.|
|These my sky-robes spun out of Iris’ woof.|
|Comus. Line 83.|
|The star that bids the shepherd fold.|
|Comus. Line 93.|
| Midnight shout and revelry,|
Tipsy dance and jollity.
|Comus. Line 103.|
| Ere the blabbing eastern scout,|
The nice morn, on th’ Indian steep
From her cabin’d loop-hole peep.
|Comus. Line 138.|
| When the gray-hooded Even,|
Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain.
|Comus. Line 188.|
| A thousand fantasies|
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beck’ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men’s names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
|Comus. Line 205.|
| O welcome, pure-ey’d Faith, white-handed Hope,|
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!
|Comus. Line 213.|
| Was I deceiv’d, or did a sable cloud|
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
|Comus. Line 221.|
| Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mould|
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
|Comus. Line 244.|
| How sweetly did they float upon the wings|
Of silence through the empty-vaulted night,
At every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smil’d!
|Comus. Line 249.|
| Who, as they sung, would take the prison’d soul|
And lap it in Elysium.
|Comus. Line 256.|
|Such sober certainty of waking bliss.|
|Comus. Line 263.|
| I took it for a faery vision|
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colours of the rainbow live,
And play i’ th’ plighted clouds.
|Comus. Line 298.|
| It were a journey like the path to heaven,|
To help you find them.
|Comus. Line 303.|
|With thy long levell’d rule of streaming light.|
|Comus. Line 340.|
| Virtue could see to do what virtue would|
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom’s self
Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude,
Where with her best nurse Contemplation
She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,
That in the various bustle of resort
Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair’d.
He that has light within his own clear breast
May sit i’ th’ centre and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts
Benighted walks under the midday sun.
|Comus. Line 373.|
| The unsunn’d heaps|
Of miser’s treasure.
|Comus. Line 398.|
| ’T is chastity, my brother, chastity:|
She that has that is clad in complete steel.
|Comus. Line 420.|
| Some say no evil thing that walks by night,|
In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen,
Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost
That breaks his magic chains at curfew time,
No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o’er true virginity.
|Comus. Line 432.|
| So dear to heav’n is saintly chastity,|
That when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lackey her,
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,
And in clear dream and solemn vision
Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,
Till oft converse with heav’nly habitants
Begin to cast a beam on th’ outward shape.
|Comus. Line 453.|
| How charming is divine philosophy!|
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo’s lute, 16
And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets
Where no crude surfeit reigns.
|Comus. Line 476.|
|And sweeten’d every musk-rose of the dale.|
|Comus. Line 496.|
|Fill’d the air with barbarous dissonance.|
|Comus. Line 550.|
| I was all ear,|
And took in strains that might create a soul
Under the ribs of death.
|Comus. Line 560.|
| That power|
Which erring men call Chance.
|Comus. Line 587.|
| If this fail,|
The pillar’d firmament is rottenness,
And earth’s base built on stubble.
|Comus. Line 597.|
| 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.
|Comus. Line 631.|
| Enter’d the very lime-twigs of his spells,|
And yet came off.
|Comus. Line 646.|
| This cordial julep here,|
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds.
|Comus. Line 672.|
|Budge doctors of the Stoic fur.|
|Comus. Line 707.|
|And live like Nature’s bastards, not her sons.|
|Comus. Line 727.|
| It is for homely features to keep home,—|
They had their name thence; coarse complexions
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply
The sampler and to tease the huswife’s wool.
What need a vermeil-tinctur’d lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
|Comus. Line 748.|
| Swinish gluttony|
Ne’er looks to heav’n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with besotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his feeder.
|Comus. Line 776.|
| Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric,|
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.
|Comus. Line 790.|
| His rod revers’d,|
And backward mutters of dissevering power.
|Comus. Line 816.|
| Sabrina fair,|
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.
|Comus. Line 859.|
| But now my task is smoothly done,|
I can fly, or I can run.
|Comus. Line 1012.|
| Or if Virtue feeble were,|
Heav’n itself would stoop to her.
|Comus. Line 1022.|
| I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,|
And with forc’d fingers rude
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
|Lycidas. Line 3.|
| He knew|
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
|Lycidas. Line 10.|
|Without the meed of some melodious tear.|
|Lycidas. Line 14.|
|Under the opening eyelids of the morn.|
|Lycidas. Line 26.|
| But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone,|
Now thou art gone and never must return!
|Lycidas. Line 37.|
|The gadding vine.|
|Lycidas. Line 40.|
|And strictly meditate the thankless Muse.|
|Lycidas. Line 66.|
| To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,|
Or with the tangles of Neæra’s hair.
|Lycidas. Line 68.|
| Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 17|
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th’ abhorred shears
And slits the thin-spun life.
|Lycidas. Line 70.|
|Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.|
|Lycidas. Line 78.|
| It was that fatal and perfidious bark,|
Built in th’ eclipse, and rigg’d with curses dark.
|Lycidas. Line 100.|
| The pilot of the Galilean lake;|
Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).
|Lycidas. Line 109.|
| But that two-handed engine at the door|
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
|Lycidas. Line 130.|
| Throw hither all your quaint enamell’d eyes|
That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet,
The glowing violet,
The musk-rose, and the well-attir’d woodbine,
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears.
|Lycidas. Line 139.|
| So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,|
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
|Lycidas. Line 168.|
| He touch’d the tender stops of various quills,|
With eager thought warbling his Doric lay.
|Lycidas. Line 188.|
|To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.|
|Lycidas. Line 193.|
| Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee|
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks and wreathed Smiles.
|L’Allegro. Line 25.|
| Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,|
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come and trip it as ye go,
On the light fantastic toe.
|L’Allegro. Line 31.|
|The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.|
|L’Allegro. Line 36.|
| And every shepherd tells his tale|
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
|L’Allegro. Line 67.|
| Meadows trim with daisies pied,|
Shallow brooks and rivers wide;
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom’d high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The cynosure of neighboring eyes.
|L’Allegro. Line 75.|
| Herbs, and other country messes,|
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.
|L’Allegro. Line 85.|
| To many a youth and many a maid|
Dancing in the chequer’d shade.
|L’Allegro. Line 95.|
|Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.|
|L’Allegro. Line 100.|
| Tower’d cities please us then,|
And the busy hum of men.
|L’Allegro. Line 117.|
| Ladies, whose bright eyes|
Rain influence, and judge the prize.
|L’Allegro. Line 121.|
| Such sights as youthful poets dream|
On summer eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Jonson’s learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy’s child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
|L’Allegro. Line 129.|
| And ever against eating cares|
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse, 18
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.
|L’Allegro. Line 135.|
| Untwisting all the chains that tie|
The hidden soul of harmony.
|L’Allegro. Line 143.|
|The gay motes that people the sunbeams.|
|Il Penseroso. Line 8.|
| And looks commercing with the skies,|
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
|Il Penseroso. Line 39.|
|Forget thyself to marble.|
|Il Penseroso. Line 42.|
| And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet,|
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
|Il Penseroso. Line 45.|
| And add to these retired Leisure,|
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
|Il Penseroso. Line 49.|
| Sweet bird, that shun’st the noise of folly,|
Most musical, most melancholy!
|Il Penseroso. Line 61.|
| I walk unseen|
On the dry smooth-shaven green,
To behold the wandering moon
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav’n’s wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head she bow’d,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
|Il Penseroso. Line 65.|
| Where glowing embers through the room|
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.
|Il Penseroso. Line 79.|
| Far from all resort of mirth|
Save the cricket on the hearth.
|Il Penseroso. Line 81.|
| Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy|
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops’ line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
|Il Penseroso. Line 97.|
| Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing|
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto’s cheek.
|Il Penseroso. Line 105.|
| Or call up him that left half told|
The story of Cambuscan bold.
|Il Penseroso. Line 109.|
|Where more is meant than meets the ear.|
|Il Penseroso. Line 120.|
| When the gust hath blown his fill,|
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.
|Il Penseroso. Line 128.|
|Hide me from day’s garish eye.|
|Il Penseroso. Line 141.|
| And storied windows richly dight,|
Casting a dim religious light.
|Il Penseroso. Line 159.|
| Till old experience do attain|
To something like prophetic strain.
|Il Penseroso. Line 173.|
|Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.|
|Arcades. Line 68.|
| Under the shady roof|
Of branching elm star-proof.
|Arcades. Line 88.|
| O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted,|
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly.
|Ode on the Death of a fair Infant, dying of a Cough.|
|Such as may make thee search the coffers round.|
|At a Vacation Exercise. Line 31.|
| No war or battle’s sound|
Was heard the world around.
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 53.|
|Time will run back and fetch the age of gold.|
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 135.|
|Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.|
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 172.|
| The oracles are dumb,|
No voice or hideous hum
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance or breathed spell
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 173.|
| From haunted spring and dale|
Edg’d with poplar pale
The parting genius is with sighing sent.
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 184.|
| Peor and Baälim|
Forsake their temples dim.
|Hymn on Christ’s Nativity. Line 197.|
| What needs my Shakespeare for his honour’d bones,—|
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow’d relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?
|Epitaph on Shakespeare.|
| And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie,|
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
|Epitaph on Shakespeare.|
|Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day. 19|
|Sonnet to the Nightingale.|
|As ever in my great Taskmaster’s eye.|
|On his being arrived to the Age of Twenty-three.|
| The great Emathian conqueror bid spare|
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower
Went to the ground.
|When the Assault was intended to the City.|
|That old man eloquent.|
|To the Lady Margaret Ley.|
|That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.|
|On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises.|
| License they mean when they cry, Liberty!|
For who loves that must first be wise and good.
|On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises.|
| Peace hath her victories|
No less renown’d than war.
|To the Lord General Cromwell.|
| Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,|
When all our fathers worshipp’d stocks and stones.
|On the late Massacre in Piedmont.|
| Thousands at his bidding speed,|
And post o’er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.
|On his Blindness.|
| What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,|
Of Attic taste?
|To Mr. Lawrence.|
|In mirth that after no repenting draws.|
|Sonnet xxi. To Cyriac Skinner.|
| For other things mild Heav’n a time ordains,|
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
|Sonnet xxi. To Cyriac Skinner.|
| Yet I argue not|
Against Heav’n’s hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
|Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner.|
|Of which all Europe rings from side to side.|
|Sonnet xxii. To Cyriac Skinner.|
| But oh! as to embrace me she inclin’d,|
I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.
|On his Deceased Wife.|
| Have hung|
My dank and dropping weeds
To the stern god of sea.
|Translation of Horace. Book i. Ode 5.|
|For such kind of borrowing as this, if it be not bettered by the borrowers, among good authors is accounted Plagiarè.|
|Truth is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam. 20|
|Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce.|
|A poet soaring in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing robes about him.|
|The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii.|
|By labour and intent study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after times as they should not willingly let it die.|
|The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii.|
|Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.|
|The Reason of Church Government. Introduction, Book ii.|
|He who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things ought himself to be a true poem.|
|Apology for Smectymnuus.|
|His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command.|
|Apology for Smectymnuus.|
|Litigious terms, fat contentions, and flowing fees.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|I shall detain you no longer in the demonstration of what we should not do, but straight conduct ye to a hillside, where I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble education; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect and melodious sounds on every side that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|Enflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to all ages.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|Ornate rhetorick taught out of the rule of Plato…. To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less suttle and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|Attic tragedies of stateliest and most regal argument.|
|Tractate of Education.|
|As good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God’s image; but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself.|
|A good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.|
|Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.|
|I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.|
|Who shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper softness in chambers?|
|Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks; methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam.|
|Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do ingloriously, 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? 21|
|Men of most renowned virtue have sometimes by transgressing most truly kept the law.|
|By this time, like one who had set out on his way by night, and travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history now arrives on the confines, where daylight and truth meet us with a clear dawn, representing to our view, though at a far distance, true colours and shapes.|
|The History of England. Book i.|
|Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?|
|The History of England. Book iv.|
But vindicate the ways of God to man.—Alexander Pope: Essay on Man, epistle i. line 16. [back]
See Book iv. line 75. [back]
Stream’d like a meteor to the troubled air.—Thomas Gray: The Bard, i. 2, line 6. [back]
Aristophanes turns Socrates into ridicule…as making the worse appear the better reason.—Diogenes Laertius: Socrates, v. [back]
Our hope is loss, our hope but sad despair.—William Shakespeare: Henry VI. part iii. act ii. sc. 3. [back]
Rubente dextera.—Horace: Ode i. 2, 2. [back]
Compare great things with small.—Virgil: Eclogues, i. 24; Georgics, iv. 176. Abraham Cowley: The Motto. John Dryden: Ovid, Metamorphoses, book i. line 727. Thomas Tickell: Poem on Hunting. Alexander Pope: Windsor Forest. [back]
Ye little stars! hide our diminished rays.—Alexander Pope: Moral Essays, epistle iii. line 282. [back]
See Herrick, Quotation 17. [back]
Necessity is the argument of tyrants, it is the creed of slaves.—William Pitt, Earl of Chatham: Speech on the India Bill, November, 1783. [back]
When unadorned, adorned the most.—James Thomson: Autumn, line 204. [back]
”But most of all respect thyself.”—A precept of the Pythagoreans. [back]
Stern daughter of the voice of God.—William Wordsworth: Ode to Duty. [back]
Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes (Neither fear nor wish for your last day).—Martial: lib. x. epigram 47, line 13. [back]
The child is father of the man.—William Wordsworth: My Heart Leaps up. [back]
See Shakespeare, Love’s Labour ’s Lost, Quotation 30. [back]
Erant quibus appetentior famæ videretur, quando etiam sapientibus cupido gloriæ novissima exuitur (Some might consider him as too fond of fame, for the desire of glory clings even to the best of men longer than any other passion) [said of Helvidius Priscus].—Tacitus: Historia, iv. 6. [back]
Wisdom married to immortal verse.—William Wordsworth: The Excursion, book vii. [back]
See Chaucer, Quotation 57. [back]
See Bacon, Quotation 44. [back]
Error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it.—Thomas Jefferson: Inaugural Address. [back]