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John Milton
Quote #51
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste?
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License they mean when they cry, Liberty! For who loves that must first be wise and good.
Have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern god of sea.
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.
That old man eloquent.
By this time, like one who had set out on his way by night, and travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history now arrive…
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.
This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great rede…
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