The Poetical Works of John Milton,: With Notes of Various Authors. To which are Added Illustrations, and Some Account of the Life and Writings of Milton,

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J. Johnson, 1809
 

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Side 385 - Through the dear might of him that walked 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.
Side 50 - FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race : Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross ; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain...
Side 8 - But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
Side 18 - And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins ; for, from this happy day, The...
Side 9 - But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began...
Side 88 - Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull.
Side 397 - I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs By the known rules of ancient liberty, When straight a barbarous noise environs me Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs...
Side 19 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Side 4 - 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...
Side 88 - Death hath broke his girt, And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full, Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.

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