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John Milton
Quote #62
Peor and Baalim Forsake their temples dim.
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From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting genius is with sighing sent.
Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights …
The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, W…
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, Nods and becks and wreathed smiles.
Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter, holding both his sides. Come, and trip it, as you go. On the light fantastic toe.
Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold.
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.
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