Paradise lost, a poem. Pr. from the text of Tonson's correct ed. of 1711
Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt
Nem találtunk ismertetőket a szokott helyeken.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Paradise Lost, a Poem. PR. from the Text of Tonson's Correct Ed. of 1711
Professor John Milton
Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Adam Angel arms beast behold bliss bounds bright bring call'd cloud coming created creatures dark death deep delight divine dreadful dwell earth equal eternal evil eyes fair faith fall Father fear fell field fire fruit gates glory Gods grace hand happy hast hath head heard heart Heav'n heav'nly Hell hill hope human king leave less light live look lost meet mind morn nature never night once pain Paradise peace perhaps pow'r pure reason reign reply'd rest rise round Satan seat seek seem'd Serpent shape side sight sons soon sound spake Spi'rits stand stars stood sweet taste thee thence things thou thoughts throne till tree virtue voice whence wide winds wings
133. oldal - Rising or falling still advance his praise. 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.
263. oldal - So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe, That all was lost.
2. oldal - Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark, Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men.
114. oldal - Shine not in vain ; nor think, though men were none, That heaven would want spectators, God want praise. Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night...
133. oldal - Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels ! for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing : ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
26. oldal - From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 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...
252. oldal - As one, who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight; The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
25. oldal - 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.
29. oldal - HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat...
66. oldal - Those other two equalled with me in fate, So were I equalled with them in renown, Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides, 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.