These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Heaven open'd wide Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges moving. — John Milton Copy Share Image
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And in the lowest deep a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, in every gesture dignity and love. — John Milton Copy Share Image
“The stars, that nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps with everlasting oil, give due light to the misled and lonely… — John Milton Copy Share Image
And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Neither prosperity nor empire nor heaven can be worth winning at the price of a virulent temper, bloody hands, an anguished spirit,… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Nor aught availed him now to have built in heaven high towers; nor did he scrape by all his engines, but was… — John Milton Copy Share Image
From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest heaven had changed To grateful twilight. — John Milton Copy Share Image
In those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest, Live well; how long, or short, permit to Heaven. — John Milton Copy Share Image
Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read His wondrous works. — John Milton Copy Share Image
You can make hell out of heaven and heaven out of hell. It's all in the mind. — John Milton Copy Share Image
She what was honour knew, And with obsequious majesty approv'd My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower I led her blushing like… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Is it true, O Christ in heaven, that the highest suffer the most? That the strongest wander furthest and most hopelessly are… — John Milton Copy Share Image
The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven. — John Milton Copy Share Image
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
“So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard Well pleased, but answered not; for now too nigh Th' Archangel stood, and from… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Me miserable! Which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Angels contented with their face in heaven, Seek not the praise of men. — 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
