John Milton: the Patriot and Poet

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Partridge & Oakey, 1852 - 235 oldal

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76. oldal - Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impaired. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i...
102. oldal - Typhon with his conspirators, how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends of truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as they could find them.
143. oldal - Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells ; hail horrors, hail Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings A mind not to be changed by place, or time.
29. oldal - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
130. oldal - Rescued from death by force though pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind.
99. oldal - There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought...
34. oldal - As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
167. oldal - A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the...
23. oldal - The lonely mountains o'er And the resounding shore A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale Edged with poplar pale The parting Genius is with sighing sent ; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
168. oldal - Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for Beast and Bird, they to their grassy couch, these to their nests, were slunk, — all but the wakeful nightingale; she, all night long, her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased. Now...

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