John Milton Quotes

But he her fears to cease Sent down the meek-eyed Peace; She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity (l. 17-24). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. repr. In Milton's Poetical Works, ed. Douglas Bush (1966). Samson, in Samson Agonistes, l. 1008 (1671).
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And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins; for from this happy day The old Dragon underground, In straiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurped sway, And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity (l. 137-144). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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If weakness may excuse, What murtherer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? All wickedness is weakness: that plea therefore With God or man will gain thee no remission.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Samson to Delilah, in "Samson Agonistes," (1671).
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See how from far upon the eastern road The star-led Wizards haste with odours sweet . . .
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity. . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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The more I see Pleasures about me, so much more I feel Torment within me, as from the hateful siege Of contraries; all good to me becomes Bane, and in heav'n much worse would be my state.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Satan, in Paradise Lost, bk. 9, l.119-23 (1674).
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Ring out, ye crystal spheres, Once bless our human ears (If ye have power to touch our senses so), And let your silver chime Move in melodious time, And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity (l. 97-104). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday.
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The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Satan, in Paradise Lost, bk. 1, l. 254-5 (1667).
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This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of heav'n's eternal King, Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. On the Morning of Christ's Nativity, l. 1-4 (written 1629, published 1645).
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And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, Consult how we may henceforth most offend.
John Milton (1608-1674), British poet. Satan, in Paradise Lost, bk.1, l. 186-7 (1667).
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