Paradise Lost: A Poem,in Twelve Books; with a Memoir of the Author; Illus. with Twelve Engravings

Forsideomslag
S. Andrus and Son, 1853 - 400 sider
 

Hvad folk siger - Skriv en anmeldelse

Vi har ikke fundet nogen anmeldelser de normale steder.

Andre udgaver - Se alle

Almindelige termer og sætninger

Populære passager

Side 86 - And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old : Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid, Tunes her nocturnal note.
Side 138 - Hail, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety In Paradise of all things common else! By thee adulterous lust was driven from men Among the bestial herds to range; by thee, Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, Relations dear, and all the charities Of father, son, and brother, first were known.
Side 154 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair : thyself how wondrous then, Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Side 40 - Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave ; nor did there want Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven •, The roof was fretted gold.
Side 155 - Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change Vary to our Great Maker still new praise. Ye...
Side 23 - Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood...
Side 51 - Almighty Victor to spend all his rage, And that must end us, that must be our cure, To be no more : sad cure ; for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion...
Side 86 - 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...
Side 26 - He scarce had ceased, when the superior 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, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Side 397 - Beyond is all abyss, Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. Greatly instructed I shall hence depart ; Greatly in peace of thought ; and have my fill Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain ; Beyond which was my folly to aspire. Henceforth I learn, that to obey is best, And love, with fear, the only God ; to walk As in his presence, ever to observe His providence, and on him sole depend, Merciful over all his works, with good Still overcoming evil, and by small Accomplishing great things ; by things...

Bibliografiske oplysninger