JOHN MILTON. 1608-1674.

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.

Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 1.

Or if Sion hill

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flow'd

Fast by the oracle of God.

Line 10.

Where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all.

What though the field be lost?
All is not lost; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield.

To be weak is miserable,

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Line 105.

Doing or suffering.

Line 157.

And out of good still to find means of evil.

Line 165.

Farewell happy fields,

Where joy forever dwells: hail, horrors!

Line 249.

1 But vindicate the ways of God to man. - POPE: Essay on Man, epistle

i. line 16.

A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.1

Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 253.

Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
Heard so oft

In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge.
Of battle.

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast
Of some great ammiral were but a wand,
He walk'd with to support uneasy steps

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Over the burning marle.

Line 292.

Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

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Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc'd
Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind.2
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

1 See Book iv. line 75.

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Line 540.

2 Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air. - GRAY: The Bard, i. 2,

line 6.

Anon they move

In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood

Of flutes and soft recorders. Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 549.

His form had yet not lost

All her original brightness, nor appear'd
Less than archangel ruin'd, and th' excess
Of glory obscur'd.

Line 591.

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds.
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.

Line 597.

Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.

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Who overcomes

By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

Line 648.

Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell

From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more

The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold,

Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd

In vision beatific.

Line 679.

Let none admire

That riches grow in hell: that soil may best

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day; and with the setting sun
Dropp'd from the Zenith like a falling star.

Fairy elves,

Whose midnight revels by a forest side

Or fountain some belated peasant sees,

Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress.

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Line 781

High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd
To that bad eminence.

Surer to prosper than prosperity

Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 1.

The strongest and the fiercest spirit

Line 39.

Could have assur'd us.

That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.

Line 44.

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue

Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason,1 to perplex and dash

Line 112.

Th' ethereal mould

Maturest counsels.

Incapable of stain would soon expel

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat despair.2

1 Aristophanes turns Socrates into ridicule

Line 139.

...

as making the worse

appear the better reason. - - DIOGENES LAERTIUS: Socrates, v.

2 Our hope is loss, our hope but sad despair. - SHAKESPEARE: Henry

VI. part iii. act ii. sc. 3.

For who would lose,

Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night?

With grave

Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd

A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat, and public care;

And princely counsel in his face yet shone,
Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood,
With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear

The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look

Drew audience and attention still as night

Or summer's noontide air.

The palpable obscure.

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Long is the way

And hard, that out of hell leads up to light.

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Oh, shame to men! devil with devil damn'd

Firm concord holds, men only disagree

Of creatures rational.

1 Rubente dextera. - HORACE: Ode i. 2, 2.

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