And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced choir below, In… — John Milton Copy Share Image
But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars… — John Milton Copy Share Image
What better can we do than prostrate fall before Him reverent, and there confess humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears watering the… — John Milton Copy Share
And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. — John Milton Copy Share
And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, consult how we may henceforth most offend. — John Milton Copy Share
Yet hold it more humane, more heav'nly, first, By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make persuasion do the work of fear. — John Milton Copy Share
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost… — John Milton Copy Share
The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that… — John Milton Copy Share
Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know, Can it be death? And do they… — John Milton Copy Share
These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs… — John Milton Copy Share
And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained? — John Milton Copy Share
This is servitude, To serve th'unwise, or him who hath rebelled Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, Thyself not free, but to… — John Milton Copy Share
Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves; Why stand we longer shivering under fears,… — John Milton Copy Share
They are the troublers, they are the dividers of unity, who neglect and don't permit others to unite those dissevered pieces which are yet… — John Milton Copy Share
