With head a while inclined, And eyes fast fixed, he stood, as one who prayed, Or some great matter in his mind revolved: At last, with head erect, thus cried aloud:-- "Hitherto, Lords, what your commands imposed I have performed, as reason was, obeying, Not without wonder or delight beheld; Now, of my own accord, such other trial I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, As with amaze shall strike all who behold." This uttered, straining all his nerves he bowed; As with the force of winds and waters pent When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars, With horrible convulsion to and fro He tugged, he shook, till down they came, and drew The whole roof after them with burst of thunder Upon the heads of all who sat beneath. (MILTON: _Samson Agonistes_, ll. 1636-1652. 1671.) The blank verse of Milton is characterized by greater freedom and flexibility than that of any earlier poet. The single line practically ceases to be the unit of the verse, which is divided rather into metrical paragraphs, or, as some would even call them, stanzas. Professor Corson quotes an interesting passage from a letter of Coleridge, giving an account of a conversation in which Wordsworth expressed his view of this sort of blank verse. "My friend gave his definition and notion of harmonious verse, that it consisted (the English iambic blank verse above all) in the apt arrangement of pauses and cadences, and the sweep of whole paragraphs, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, and not in the even flow, much less in the prominence or antithetic vigor of single lines, which were indeed injurious to the total effect, except where they were introduced for some specific purpose." (Corson's _Primer of English Verse_, p. 218.) In like manner Mr. Symonds says: "The most sonorous passages begin and end with interrupted lines, including in one organic structure, periods, parentheses, and paragraphs of fluent melody.... In these structures there are many pauses which enable the ear and voice to rest themselves, but none are perfect, none satisfy the want created by the opening hemistich, until the final and deliberate close is reached." (_Blank Verse_ pp. 56, 57.)