But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturns All patience. — 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
Of four infernal rivers that disgorge/ Into the burning Lake their baleful streams;/Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,/Sad Acheron of sorrow,… — John Milton Copy Share Image
And that must end us, that must be our cure: To be no more. Sad cure! For who would lose, Though full… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life;… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell, . . . . And boldly venture to whatever place Farthest from pain? — 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
