Except in his splendid episodical descriptions he seeks to impress by the massy substance of his verse.

It is a great proof of the essentially poetical quality of his mind that though he thus often becomes jejune, he is never prosaic.

He is ever unmistakably the poet, even when his beauties are rather those of the orator or the moralist.

The following sound remark, for instance, would not have been poetry in Pope; it is poetry in Milton:-- "Who reads Incessantly, and to his reading brings not A spirit and judgment equal or superior (And what he brings what need he elsewhere seek ?) Uncertain and unsettled still remains?
Deep versed in books and shallow in himself." Perhaps, too, the sparse flowers of pure poetry are more exquisite from their contrast with the general austerity:-- "The field, all iron, cast a gleaming brown." "Morning fair Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray." Poetic magic these, and Milton is still Milton.
"I have lately read his Samson, which has more of the antique spirit than any production of any other modern poet.

He is very great." Thus Goethe to Eckermann, in his old age.