John Milton Quotes

Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, To earn his cream-bowl duly set, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-laborers could not end: Then lies him down the lubber fend, And stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. L'Allegro (l. 105-114). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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The childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Paradise Regained, bk. 4, l. 220-1 (1671).
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Come, and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee, The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. L'Allegro (l. 33-36). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. repr. In Milton's Poetical Works, ed. Douglas Bush (1966). Phoebes, in Lycidas, l. 78 (1637).
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Alas! What boots it with uncessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Hid in the tangles of Neaera's hair?
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Lycidas (l. 64-69). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid:/Leave them to God above; him serve and fear.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet, statesman. Raphael in Paradise Lost, book VIII, lines 167-168.
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Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more, Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never-sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forc'd fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due: For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Lycidas (l. 1-8). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand. [Samson:] Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. At distance I forgive thee, go with that; Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works It hath brought forth to make thee memorable Among illustrious women, faithful wives: Cherish thy hast'n'd widowhood with the gold Of Matrimonial treason: so farewel.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Samson Agonistes (l. 951-959). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon where 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.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Lycidas (l. 70-76). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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But he though blind of sight, Despis'd and thought extinguish't quite, With inward eyes illuminated His fierie vertue rouz'd From under ashes into sudden flame, And as an ev'ning Dragon came,
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Samson Agonistes (l. 1687-1692). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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