The Poetical Works of John Milton: With Notes and a Life of the Author, 1. köide

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Hilliard, Gray, 1838
 

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Page 81 - 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...
Page 137 - 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 14 - Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand...
Page 272 - 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...
Page 160 - 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 12 - Is this the region, this the soil, the clime," Said then the lost Archangel, " this the seat That we must change for Heaven?
Page 19 - Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose, Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, Can execute their aery purposes, 430 And works of love or enmity fulfil.
Page 81 - 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...
Page 160 - While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, . Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Page 27 - Arch-Angel: but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd." and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather (Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd For ever now to have their lot in pain...

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