The Works of the British Poets: With Lives of the Authors, Том 7Mitchell, Ames, and White, 1819 |
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... thee so strictly doom ? Oh , no ! for something in thy face did shine Above mortalitie , that shewed thou wast divine . We do not pretend to know what is meant by these two last lines ; and the two last of the other stanza are still ...
... thee so strictly doom ? Oh , no ! for something in thy face did shine Above mortalitie , that shewed thou wast divine . We do not pretend to know what is meant by these two last lines ; and the two last of the other stanza are still ...
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... thee all when I dye at thy disposal . She adds , that he was , ' at that time , of perfect perfect mind and memory ; talked and discoursed sensibly and well ; was very merry , and seemed to be in good health of body . ' || Her sister ...
... thee all when I dye at thy disposal . She adds , that he was , ' at that time , of perfect perfect mind and memory ; talked and discoursed sensibly and well ; was very merry , and seemed to be in good health of body . ' || Her sister ...
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... thee search thy coffers round , Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound ; Such , where the deep transported mind may soar Above the wheeling poles , at Heaven's door Look in , and see each blissful deity , How he before the thundrous ...
... thee search thy coffers round , Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound ; Such , where the deep transported mind may soar Above the wheeling poles , at Heaven's door Look in , and see each blissful deity , How he before the thundrous ...
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... thee ! That is to say , Milton himself is Ovid in exile ; and , if he does not , like Ovid , meet with any heavier misfortunes , he shall do that which those misfortunes prevented Ovid from doing . One is the rather tempted to put this ...
... thee ! That is to say , Milton himself is Ovid in exile ; and , if he does not , like Ovid , meet with any heavier misfortunes , he shall do that which those misfortunes prevented Ovid from doing . One is the rather tempted to put this ...
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... thee , O Lad , to whom my years do creep , Thou reverent stately child , how deep in breast I thee receive . Thou ever art my mate . was against proveable b disagreeable sversion to angether all trine 132 LIFE OF MILTON .
... thee , O Lad , to whom my years do creep , Thou reverent stately child , how deep in breast I thee receive . Thou ever art my mate . was against proveable b disagreeable sversion to angether all trine 132 LIFE OF MILTON .
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Angels Aubrey biographers Burtas called Christ's College Comus copies Cromwell dark daughter death delight divine doth earth edition Edward Phillips eyes fair fame father fear give glory Godw Godwin hand hath hear heard Heaven honour ibid Jesus John John Milton Johnson king kingdom Lady Latin live long parliament Lord Lord Brackley Lycidas Milton mortal never night Nymphs o'er Ovid Paradise Lost PARADISE REGAINED Parthian Phillips poem poet poetry praise Prophet published puritans racter readers reign replied Salmasius Satan Saviour says shades shalt shepherd sing Smectymnuus Son of God song soon soul spake spirit suppose sweet taught tell Tempter thee thence things thou art thou hast thought throne thyself tion Todd told verses virgin virtue voice Warton wife wood words
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Страница 262 - There, held in holy passion still, Forget thyself to marble, till With a sad, leaden, downward cast Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
Страница 259 - 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, stretched 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.
Страница 264 - The immortal mind, that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook : And of those demons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With planet, or with element. Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In scepter'd pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine; Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage.
Страница 265 - And, when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of Pine, or monumental Oak, Where the rude Axe with heaved stroke Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
Страница 257 - 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...
Страница 310 - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.
Страница 288 - With her great master so to sympathize : It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow ; And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded that her maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Страница 218 - Comus. The star that bids the shepherd fold Now the top of heaven doth hold; And the gilded car of Day His glowing axle doth allay In the steep Atlantic stream: And the slope Sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky pole, Pacing toward the other goal Of his chamber in the east.
Страница 247 - But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly or I can run Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend ; And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the moon.
Страница 292 - 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.