The Poetical Works of John Milton ...Jones & Company, 1824 - 131 sider |
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Side 19
... rill Water'd the garden ; thence united fell Down the steep glade , and met the nether flood , Which from his darksome passage now appears : And now divided into four main streams , Runs diverse , wand'ring many a famous realm And ...
... rill Water'd the garden ; thence united fell Down the steep glade , and met the nether flood , Which from his darksome passage now appears : And now divided into four main streams , Runs diverse , wand'ring many a famous realm And ...
Side 25
... rills , Aurora's fan , Lightly dispers'd , and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough : so much the more His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve With tresses discompos'd , and glowing cheek , As through unquiet rest : he , on his ...
... rills , Aurora's fan , Lightly dispers'd , and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough : so much the more His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve With tresses discompos'd , and glowing cheek , As through unquiet rest : he , on his ...
Side 97
... rills , That tumble down the snowy hills : Summer drouth , or singed air Never scorch thy tresses fair , Nor wet October's torrent flood 940 Spir . To the ocean now I fly , And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye ...
... rills , That tumble down the snowy hills : Summer drouth , or singed air Never scorch thy tresses fair , Nor wet October's torrent flood 940 Spir . To the ocean now I fly , And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye ...
Side 117
... rill . Together both , ere the high lawns appear'd Under the opening eye - lids of the morn , We drove afield , and both together heard What time the gray - fly winds her sultry horn , Battening our flocks , with the fresh dews of night ...
... rill . Together both , ere the high lawns appear'd Under the opening eye - lids of the morn , We drove afield , and both together heard What time the gray - fly winds her sultry horn , Battening our flocks , with the fresh dews of night ...
Side 118
... rills , While the still morn went out with sandals gray , He touch'd the tender stops of various quills , With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills , And now was dropp'd into the western ...
... rills , While the still morn went out with sandals gray , He touch'd the tender stops of various quills , With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills , And now was dropp'd into the western ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
ACTON PLACE Æneid angels Arion arms beauty behold beneath bless'd bliss bosom breast breath bright charms clouds Dagon dark death deep delight divine dread dwell earth eternal fair fame fancy fear fire fix'd flame flowers glory grace Greece grove hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven hell hills honour hope JULIUS CÆSAR king labour light live Lord lyre mind Muse Naiads nature nature's never night numbers nymph o'er once pain Palemon PARADISE LOST peace PINDAR plain pleasure praise rage rapture reign rills rise Rodmond round sacred Satan scene seem'd shade shine shore sight smile soft song soon soul spirit stood stream sweet taste tempest thee thence thine things thou thought throne toil tongue trembling truth Twas vale vellum vex'd virtue voice wave whence wild wind wings wonder youth
Populære passager
Side 110 - I hear the far-off curfew sound, Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar: Or, if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the belman's drowsy charm, To bless the doors from nightly harm...
Side 102 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away. And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? — it was — Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more ! Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
Side 102 - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughen'd by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age...
Side 118 - Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And Daffadillies 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.
Side 8 - Thither no more the peasant shall repair To sweet oblivion of his daily care; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear...
Side 8 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Side 44 - Yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best...
Side 94 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay; And there he threw the Wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. "Stop, stop, John Gilpin!— Here's the house !" They all at once did cry; "The dinner waits, and we are tired;"— Said Gilpin, "So am I!
Side 9 - Where the dark scorpion gathers death around; Where at each step the stranger fears to wake The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake ; Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, And savage men more murderous still than they; While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies.
Side 117 - Had ye been there, for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament...