Selections from the Poetical Works of John Milton: With Introduction, Suggestions for Study, Notes, and GlossaryD.C. Heath & Company, 1908 - 395 strani |
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SELECTIONS FROM THE POETICAL W John 1608-1674 Milton,Albert Perry 1862-1911 Walker, Ed Predogled ni na voljo - 2016 |
SELECTIONS FROM THE POETICAL W John 1608-1674 Milton,Albert Perry 1862-1911 Walker, Ed Predogled ni na voljo - 2016 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Æneid æsthetic ancient angels Aonia appear arms beautiful behold Belial Book bright called Chaos character Charybdis Chimæras Colchis Comus constellation dark death deep deities dire divine dread Earth Egypt epic eternal evil expression eyes fell fire firmament force glory goddess gods golden Greek happy haste hath head Heaven heavenly Hell highth hill horrid Hymn Il Penseroso immortal Jove King L'Allegro land light lines living Lycidas lyric Milton mind moon morning mortal Mount nature night Note nymph o'er onomatopoetic Ophiuchus pain Paradise Lost passage peace Penseroso poem poet poetic poetry region reign round Satan Saturn Scylla seat seemed Sonnet soul sound spake speech spheres Spirit stanza stars stood stream synecdoche Tartarus Thammuz thee thence Theocritus things thou thought throne trimeter trochee Uranus verse wandering waves winds wings words worship
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 360 - 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.
Stran 168 - Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Stran 358 - ON HIS BLINDNESS. 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 5 My true account, lest he returning chide; ' Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
Stran 107 - Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. His spear - to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand...
Stran 277 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Stran 346 - Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. For, so to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; Ay me...
Stran 169 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Stran 281 - With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp and feast and revelry, With mask and antique pageantry, Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
Stran 106 - What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be ; all but less than He Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : Here we may reign secure, and in my choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell : Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven...
Stran 343 - 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?