The poetical works of John Milton, with life and notes [by G. Gilfillan]. The text ed. by C.C. Clarke
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Adam Angels appear arms behold bright bring brought cause cloud comes dark death deep delight divine dread dwell earth eternal evil eyes fair faith fall Father fear fell fire force fruit give glory gods grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hell hill honour hope King land leave less light live look Lord lost mean Milton mind morn Nature never night once pain Paradise peace perhaps praise replied rest rise round Satan seat seek seems shade side sight sons soon soul spake Spirit stand stood strength sweet taste thee thence things thou thought throne till tree true virtue voice wide winds wings wonder
Strana 44 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. *° So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Strana 158 - Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse ; Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
Strana 152 - Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. For, so to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world...
Strana 155 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise ; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Strana 157 - When, in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end ;Then lies him down the lubber fiend. And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength ; And, crop-full, out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Strana 208 - As one who, long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight ; The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
Strana 2 - Above them all the archangel : but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd ; and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride Waiting revenge ; cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion, to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather (Far other once beheld in bliss), condemn'd For ever now to have their lot in pain...
Strana 152 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Strana 68 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
Strana 2 - Their dread commander ; he, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower ; his form had yet not lost All her original brightness ; nor appear'd Less than archangel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscured ; as when the sun, new risen, Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.