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Adam Angels appeared arms beginning behold BOOK bring brought called Cambridge cause coming copies dark death deep delight divine Earth edition English evil eyes fair fall Father fear fire fruit give given glory hand happy hast hath head heard heart Heaven Hell hill honour hope human Italy King known Lady Latin Lawes leave less light lines live look Lord Milton mind Nature never night once Paradise Lost passed perhaps poem present reason receive remains replied rest round Satan seems seen side sight song Sonnet sons soon Spirit stand stood strength sweet taste thee thence things thou thought throne till tree turned Universe verse voice wings written young
Seite 533 - When by the rout that made the hideous roar His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? Alas! what boots it with uncessant care To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 7« (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious...
Seite 113 - 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
Seite 533 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, And slits the thin-spun life.
Seite 45 - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Seite 428 - Scorn not the Sonnet: Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours! With this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow; a glow-worm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp Fell round the...
Seite 546 - 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...
Seite 535 - Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more." 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.
Seite 535 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 170 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Seite 490 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth and youth and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Seite 535 - Lycid lies. For so, to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise, Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas Wash far away, where'er thy bones are...