Capricious, wanton, bold, and brutal Lust Is meanly selfish; when resisted, cruel; And, like the blast of Pestilential Winds, Taints the sweet… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds. — John Milton Copy Share Image
Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. — John Milton Copy Share Image
O fairest of creation, last and best Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear… — John Milton Copy Share Image
For contemplation he and valour formed; / For softness she and sweet attractive grace, / He for God only, she for God… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Implied Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd,- Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Those graceful acts, those thousand decencies, that daily flow from all her words and actions, mixed with love and sweet compliance, which… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her… — John Milton Copy Share Image
In discourse more sweet; For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense. Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more… — John Milton Copy Share Image
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy. — 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
Sweet bird, that shun the noise of folly, most musical, most melancholy! — John Milton Copy Share Image
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush'd the sweet poison of misused wine. — 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
