Related:

• And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- L'Allegro, Line 67...
• Fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 550
• Such sober certainty of waking bliss. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 263
• The unsunn'd heaps Of miser's treasure. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 398
• Budge doctors of the Stoic fur. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 707
• The star that bids the shepherd fold. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 93
• Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
  Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears....
• When the gray-hooded Even, Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain.
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 188...
• How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smil'd!
  -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 249...