Paradise Lost: A Poem in Twelve Books. The Author John Milton. According to the Author's Last Edition, in the Year 1674W. and W. Smith, P. Wilson, and T. Ewing, 1767 - 348 sider |
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Side 124
... rise Among the groves , the fountains and the flours That open now their choiceft bofom'd smells Referv'd from night , and kept for thee in ftore . So chear'd he his fair fpoufe ; and the was chear'd , But filently a gentle tear let ...
... rise Among the groves , the fountains and the flours That open now their choiceft bofom'd smells Referv'd from night , and kept for thee in ftore . So chear'd he his fair fpoufe ; and the was chear'd , But filently a gentle tear let ...
Side 126
... rise From hill or steaming lake , duskie or grey , Till the fun paint your fleecie skirts with gold , In honour to the world's great author rife , Whether to deck with clouds th'uncolour'd skie , Or wet the thirsty earth with falling ...
... rise From hill or steaming lake , duskie or grey , Till the fun paint your fleecie skirts with gold , In honour to the world's great author rife , Whether to deck with clouds th'uncolour'd skie , Or wet the thirsty earth with falling ...
Side 129
... rise ; For on fome meffage high they guess'd him bound . Their glittering tents he pass'd , and now is come Into the blissful field , through groves of myrrhe And flouring odours , caffia , nard , and balme ; A wilderness of fweets ...
... rise ; For on fome meffage high they guess'd him bound . Their glittering tents he pass'd , and now is come Into the blissful field , through groves of myrrhe And flouring odours , caffia , nard , and balme ; A wilderness of fweets ...
Side 154
... rise in arms ; Who out of smallest things could without end Have rais'd inceffant armies to defeat Thy folly ; or with folitarie hand Reaching beyond all limit at one blow Unaided could have finish't thee , and whelm'd Thy legions under ...
... rise in arms ; Who out of smallest things could without end Have rais'd inceffant armies to defeat Thy folly ; or with folitarie hand Reaching beyond all limit at one blow Unaided could have finish't thee , and whelm'd Thy legions under ...
Side 159
... rise Unvanquisht , easier to transact with me That thou shouldst hope , imperious , and with threats To chafe me hence ? erre not , that so shall end The ftrife which thou call'ft evil , but we style The ftrife of glorie : which we mean ...
... rise Unvanquisht , easier to transact with me That thou shouldst hope , imperious , and with threats To chafe me hence ? erre not , that so shall end The ftrife which thou call'ft evil , but we style The ftrife of glorie : which we mean ...
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Paradise Lost: A Poem in Twelve Books. the Author John Milton. According to ... John Milton Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2023 |
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Adam Ægypt againſt alſo angels arm'd beaſt behold beſt blifs call'd cauſe cherubim cloud darkneſs death deep defcend defire divine earth eaſe elfe erft evil eyes faid fair feat feem'd ferpent fhall fide fight fince fire firft firſt fome foon foul fpake fruit ftill fuch gate glory hath heav'n heav'nly hell higheſt highth hill himſelf hoft juſt laft laſt leaſt lefs leſs light loft moſt muſt night o're Paradife paſs paſt pleas'd pleaſant pleaſure praiſe puniſhment rais'd reaſon reft repli'd reſt return'd rife rofe Satan ſeems ſhade ſhall ſhame ſhape ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſpake ſpirit ſtand ſtars ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtood ſtrength ſuch ſweet tafte taſte thee thefe themſelves thence theſe thine things thofe thoſe thou thoughts thouſand throne tree turn'd wandring whofe whoſe wings wiſdom worfe worſe
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Side 124 - 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.
Side 88 - Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
Side 121 - Evil into the mind of God or man May come and go, so unapproved, and leave No spot or blame behind...
Side 251 - Matter of scorn, not to be given the foe. However, I with thee have fix'd my lot, Certain to undergo like doom; if death Consort with thee, death is to me as life; So forcible within my heart I feel The bond of nature draw me to my own, My own in thee, for what thou art is mine; Our state cannot be sever'd, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.
Side 44 - Typhoean rage more fell, Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air In whirlwind ; hell scarce holds the wild uproar.
Side 7 - 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 32 - Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Side 147 - Abdiel, faithful found, Among the faithless faithful only he; Among innumerable false unmoved, Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ; Nor number nor example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, Though single.
Side 208 - Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of myself; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power pre-eminent: Tell me how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know...
Side 25 - Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star, On Lemnos, the Aegean isle.