The Poetical Works of John Milton

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J.M. Dent & Sons, 1925 - 554 pàgines

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Pàgina 56 - Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair, Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Pàgina 444 - Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more." Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams: return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks. Throw hither all your quaint...
Pàgina 404 - Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing; And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; But first and chiefest with thee bring, Him that yon...
Pàgina 443 - He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain ? And questioned every gust of rugged wings That blows from off each beaked promontory. They knew not of his story ; And sage Hippotades their answer brings, That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed : The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played.
Pàgina 390 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Pàgina 445 - Through the dear might of him that walked the waves. Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Pàgina 444 - Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest. Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook, or have learnt aught else the least That to the faithful Herdman's art belongs!
Pàgina 443 - Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.
Pàgina 445 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more; For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Pàgina 227 - Rather than solid virtue : all but a rib Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; Well if thrown out, as supernumerary To my just number found. O ! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men, as angels, without feminine ; Or find some other way to generate Mankind?

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