He scarce had ceased when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,… — John Milton Copy Share Image
From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,- A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropp'd from the… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight… — John Milton Copy Share Image
His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral were but… — John Milton Copy Share Image
So glistered the dire Snake , and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree Of Prohibition, root of all… — John Milton Copy Share Image
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces. — 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
