John Milton Quotes - Page 25
It was the winter wild, While the Heaven-born child, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.
Zeal and duty are not slow But on occasion's forelock watchful wait.
His words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command. Ibid.
O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.
Equally inured by moderation either state to bear, prosperous or adverse.
So shall the world go on, To good malignant, to bad men benign, Under her own weight groaning.
And to thy husband's will Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule.
Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.
The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.