A narrow compass! and yet there
Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair;
Give me but what this ribbon bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round.
* * * * *
_Go, Lovely Rose_.
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
* * * * *
_To a Lady, Singing a Song of his Composing_.
The eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which, on the shaft that made him die,
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
* * * * *
MILTON.
1608-1674.
PARADISE LOST.
Book i. Line 10.
Or if Sion hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God.
Book i. Line 22.
What in me is dark,
Illumine; what is low, raise and support;
That to the height of this great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.
Book i. Line 62.
Yet from those flames
No light; but only darkness visible.
Book i. Line 65.
Where peace
And rest can never dwell: hope never comes,
That comes to all.
Book i. Line 105.
What though the field be lost?
All is not lost.
Book i. Line 254.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
Book i.
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