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Paradise Lost: A Poem in Twelve Books. The Author John Milton
Visualização integral - 1790
Paradise Lost: A Poem, in Twelve Books. The Last Edition. The Author John Milton
Visualização integral - 1754
Adam Angels arms beft began behold Book bounds bring call'd command created creatures dark death deep delight divine doubt dread earth equal eternal evil eyes fair fall Father fear feat feem'd felf fell fide field fight fince fire firft firſt flow'rs fome fons foon force foul fpake fpirits fruit ftill ftood fuch glory Gods gold grace hand happy hath head heard heart heav'n heav'nly hell hill hope human King knowledge leave lefs light live loft look mind morn nature never night o'er once pain Paradife perhaps pow'r pure reafon receive reign reply'd rife round Satan shade shape tafte thee thefe thence theſe things thofe thoſe thou thoughts throne till tree virtue voice whofe wide winds wings
Página 13 - Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition though in Hell: Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.
Página 157 - Hear, all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand. This day I have begot whom I declare My only Son, and on this holy hill Him have anointed, whom ye now behold At my right hand ; your head I him appoint ; And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow All knees in heaven, and shall confess him Lord...
Página 38 - Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Página 6 - A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all, but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.
Página 290 - The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renowned, But such as at this day to Indians known In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillared shade High overarched, and echoing walks between...
Página 73 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 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.
Página 7 - He with his thunder: and till then who knew The force of those dire arms? yet not for those, Nor what the potent victor in his rage Can else inflict, do I repent or change, Though changed in outward lustre; that fixed mind And high disdain, from sense of injured merit...
Página 47 - O Progeny of Heaven, Empyreal Thrones, With reason hath deep silence and demur Seized us, though undismayed : long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light...
Página 29 - Nor was his name unheard or unador'd In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber ; and how he fell From Heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day ; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star, On Lemnos th...