The olive grove of Academe, Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long.
More Quotes from John Milton:
He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.John Milton
O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
John Milton
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
John Milton
When the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves With minute drops from off the eaves.
John Milton
So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.
John Milton
Live while ye may, Yet happy pair.
John Milton
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