Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Adam Angels appear'd arm'd arms aught beast behold Bentley conj bliss bright call'd Cherubim cloud Comus Dæmon dark death deep delight divine doth dread dwell Earth eternal evil fair Fair Angel fear Fenton fire fruit gastly gate gloriously bright glory gods grace hand happy hath head Heaven heavenly Hell highth hill honour Hyphened Jacob Tonson JOHN MILTON Keightley King light live Lord Lycidas Masson Milton morn mortal Mozambic Mull nigh night o'er originally Paradise Lost Paradise Regained pass'd peace Pearce conj Poems praise reign return'd round Samson Agonistes Satan seat seem'd Serpent shade shalt shew sight song soon spake Spirits stars stood sweet taste thee thence thine things thither thou art thou hast thought throne thyself Tickell tree Trin turn'd vex'd voice whence winds wings wonder
Seite 74 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, " Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ?
Seite 179 - 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: But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb,...
Seite 60 - Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear. Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream : Ay me ! I fondly dream ! Had ye been there — for what could that have done ? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore.
Seite 61 - Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears : ' Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies...
Seite 158 - 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 hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit...
Seite 5 - 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; For so the holy sages once did sing That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
Seite 124 - Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Seite 22 - Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among I woo, to hear thy even-song; And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green. To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon. Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Seite 63 - Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops and sweet societies, That sing, and, singing, in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.