Quotes from John Milton

So having said, he thus to Eve in few: Say Woman, what is this which thou hast done? To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd, Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge Bold or loquacious, thus abasht repli'd. The Serpent me beguil'd and I did eate.

O fleeting joys of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Did I request thee, maker, from my clay to mold me man, did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me, or here place in this delicious garden? As my will concurred not to my being, it were but right and equal to reduce me to my dust, desirous to resign, and render back all I received, unable to perform thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold the good I sought not.

Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste; And all amid them stood the Tree of Life, High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit [220] Of vegetable gold; and next to life Our death the Tree of Knowledge

This is Old Age; but then, thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty; which will change 540 To withered, weak, and gray; thy senses then, Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego, To what thou hast; and, for the air of youth, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry 545 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life.

Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe, That all was lost.

Whom hast thou then, or what, to accuse, but heaven's free love dealt equally t'all?

Her heavenly form Angelick, but more soft and feminine, Her graceful innocence, her every air Of gesture, or least action overawed His malice

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st Live well, how long or short permit to Heaven.

What hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope   Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste   Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,   Save what is in destroying, other joy   To me is lost. Then

Adam the while Waiting desirous her return, had wove Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn Her tresses, and her rural labours crown As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen

so much the fear, Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael, Wrought still within them:

They themselves ordained their Fall. The first sort by their own suggestion fell Self-tempted, self-depraved.