And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens take his pleasure. — John Milton Copy Share Image
O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken primrose fading timelessly. — John Milton Copy Share Image
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears. — John Milton Copy Share Image
Innumerable as the stars of night, Or stars of morning, dewdrops which the sun Impearls on every leaf and every flower. — John Milton Copy Share Image
Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north - wind's breath, And stars to set; but all,… — John Milton Copy Share Image
“That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed, Under a shade, on flowers, much wondering… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Immortal amarant, a flower which once In paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence… — 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 Image
And, when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. — John Milton Copy Share Image
And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, consult how we may henceforth most offend. — John Milton Copy Share Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
And what is faith, love, virtue unassayed Alone, without exterior help sustained? — John Milton Copy Share Image
