Related:

• Forget thyself to marble. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 42
• Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 105...
• And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 49...
• And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 159...
• Far from all resort of mirth Save the cricket on the hearth.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 81...
• Hide me from day's garish eye. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 141
• Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 109...
• Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy!
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 61...
• The gay motes that people the sunbeams. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Il Penseroso, Line 8