The Poetical Works of John Milton |
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Page xxiv
And this was his last stage in this world, but it was of many years continuance,
more perhaps than he had had in any other place besides. Here he finished his
noble poem, and published it in the year 1666; the first edition was printed in
quarto ...
And this was his last stage in this world, but it was of many years continuance,
more perhaps than he had had in any other place besides. Here he finished his
noble poem, and published it in the year 1666; the first edition was printed in
quarto ...
Page 4
If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, Our labour must be
to pervert that end, And out of good still to find means of evil; Which oft-times may
succeed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost ...
If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, Our labour must be
to pervert that end, And out of good still to find means of evil; Which oft-times may
succeed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost ...
Page 13
... regard Should favour equal to the sons of heaven: Thither, if but to pry, shall be
perhaps 655 Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere; For this infernal pit shall
never hold Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover.
... regard Should favour equal to the sons of heaven: Thither, if but to pry, shall be
perhaps 655 Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere; For this infernal pit shall
never hold Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover.
Page 17
But perhaps 70 The way seems difficult and steep to scale With upright wing
against a higher foe. Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful
lake benumb not still, That in our proper motion we ascend 75 Up to A 3 Boor II.
But perhaps 70 The way seems difficult and steep to scale With upright wing
against a higher foe. Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful
lake benumb not still, That in our proper motion we ascend 75 Up to A 3 Boor II.
Page 19
... hand to plague us? What if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of
hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war,
...
... hand to plague us? What if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of
hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war,
...
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Common terms and phrases
Adam angels arms behold bright bring brought cause cloud comes created dark death deep delight divine dread dwell earth eternal evil eyes fair faith fall Father fear fell field fire force fruit give glory gods grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heav'n hell hill honour hope King land leave less light live look Lord lost mean mind morn nature never night once pain Paradise peace perhaps pow'r praise reason reign replied rest rise round Satan seat seek shade side sight sons soon spake spirits stand stood strength sweet taste thee thence things thou thought throne till tree virtue voice wide winds wings
Popular passages
Page 278 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said : But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Page 6 - Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Page 314 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied In Liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which...
Page 278 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Page 280 - Haste thee Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks...
Page 285 - 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...
Page 73 - Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Page 36 - Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit...
Page 62 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening" mild; then silent night With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train...
Page 281 - While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.