Paradise Regain'd: A Poem, in Four Books. To which is Added, Samson Agonistes: and Poems Upon Several OccasionsJ. Baskerville, 1759 - 390 páginas |
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Página 71
... doth this grandeur and majestic show Of luxury , though call'd magnificence , More than of arms before , allure mine eye , Much less my mind ; though thou should'ft add to tell Their fumptuous gluttonies , and gorgeous feasts On citron ...
... doth this grandeur and majestic show Of luxury , though call'd magnificence , More than of arms before , allure mine eye , Much less my mind ; though thou should'ft add to tell Their fumptuous gluttonies , and gorgeous feasts On citron ...
Página 167
... , As if to fhow what creatures Heav'n doth breed , Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire To fcorn the fordid world , and unto heav'n aspire ? But X. But oh why didst thou not stay here below POEMS on feveral Occafions . I. 167.
... , As if to fhow what creatures Heav'n doth breed , Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire To fcorn the fordid world , and unto heav'n aspire ? But X. But oh why didst thou not stay here below POEMS on feveral Occafions . I. 167.
Página 169
... and at Heav'n's door Look in , and fee each blissful Deity How he before the thunderous throne doth lie , Y 25 30 35 Lift'ning Lift'ning to what unshorn Apollo fings To th ' touch POEMS on feveral Occafions . II . 169 .
... and at Heav'n's door Look in , and fee each blissful Deity How he before the thunderous throne doth lie , Y 25 30 35 Lift'ning Lift'ning to what unshorn Apollo fings To th ' touch POEMS on feveral Occafions . II . 169 .
Página 171
... doth force my fear , 67 For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sibyl old , bow - bent with crooked age , That far events full wifely could presage , And in time's long and dark prospective glass Forefaw what future days should bring to ...
... doth force my fear , 67 For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sibyl old , bow - bent with crooked age , That far events full wifely could presage , And in time's long and dark prospective glass Forefaw what future days should bring to ...
Página 184
... doth found ; Me fofter airs befit , and softer ftrings ⚫ Of lute , or viol ftill , more apt for mournful things . v . 30 Befriend me Night , best patroness of grief , Over the póle thy thickest mantle throw , And work my flatter'd ...
... doth found ; Me fofter airs befit , and softer ftrings ⚫ Of lute , or viol ftill , more apt for mournful things . v . 30 Befriend me Night , best patroness of grief , Over the póle thy thickest mantle throw , And work my flatter'd ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Paradise Regain'd: A Poem, in Four Books. To which is Added Samson Agonistes ... John Milton Visualização integral - 1760 |
Paradise Regain'd: A Poem in Four Books : To which is Added Samson Agonistes ... Milton Visualização integral - 1713 |
Paradise Regain'd: A Poem, in Four Books : To which is Added Samson ... Milton Visualização integral - 1759 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
aftra againſt agni Amor anſwer Atque beſt call'd cauſe Chor Dagon darkneſs defert doft domino jam domum doth earth elſe eyes fair falſe fame fave feaſt feek fhades fhall fibi fing firſt foes folemn fome fong foon foul fræna ftill ftream ftrength fuch glory Hæc hath Heav'n himſelf honor houſe Ifrael ipfe jam non vacat juſt king Lady laſt leaſt lefs leſs loft Lord Lycidas malè mihi moſt Muſe muſt night numina Nunc o'er Olympo paſs pleaſe pow'r praiſe preſent PSAL quæ quid quoque raiſe reply'd reſt Samf Samfon ſee ſeek ſeems ſeen ſerve ſet ſhades ſhall ſhe ſhould ſhow ſome Son of God ſpeed ſpread ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtood ſuch ſweet thee thefe themſelves theſe thoſe thou art throne thyſelf tibi ulmo uſe verſe virtue weakneſs whoſe wilderneſs wilt worſe
Passagens conhecidas
Página 200 - As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Página 166 - THIS is the month, and this the happy morn Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring...
Página 173 - The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy, That on the bitter cross Must redeem our loss; So both Himself and us to glorify...
Página 264 - Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven ; All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
Página 192 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Página 253 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Página 250 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Página 196 - But, first and chiefest, with thee bring Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation; And the mute Silence hist along, 'Less Philomel will deign a song, In her sweetest saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke Gently o'er the accustomed oak.
Página 193 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold In weeds of peace high triumphs hold With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend.
Página 250 - Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.