A Thousand Fantasies Begin To Throng Into My Memory, Of Calling Shapes, And Beck'ning Shadows Dire, And Airy Tongues That Syllable Men's Names On Sands And Shores And Desert Wildernesses.

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A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-- Comus, Line 205

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth.
-- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 5...
That power Which erring men call Chance. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 587
T is chastity, my brother, chastity: She that has that is clad in complete steel.
-- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 420...
These my sky-robes spun out of Iris' woof. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 83
Budge doctors of the Stoic fur. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 707
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 star that bids the shepherd fold. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 93
The unsunn'd heaps Of miser's treasure. -- John Milton (1608-1674) -- Comus, Line 398

A Thousand Fantasies Begin To Throng Into My Memory, Of Calling Shapes, And Beck'ning Shadows Dire, And Airy Tongues That Syllable Men's Names On Sands And Shores And Desert Wildernesses.

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