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As Milton's style is always condensed and full of matter, it may be said to have a tendency to harshness; for there is no doubt that our language is too much loaded with consonants, especially in our nouns and verbs: but if properly pronounced, there is no poetical author who has more sonorous or soft verses. At the same time, it must be admitted, that he has less fluency than Shakspeare, or even Spenser; but certainly more nerve and strength than either of them. Shakspeare has a more idiomatic combination of words, with a simple, beautiful, and spell-like colloquiality: Milton's combinations are new, learned, and often, perhaps too often, latinised: he is never trite: his mind always appears in full tension, and apart from the vulgar and the light.

SAMSON AGONISTES,

A DRAMATICK POEM.

Τραγωδία μίμησις πράξεως σπουδαίας, κ. τ. λ.

ARISTOT. Poet.' cap. 6.

Tragœdia est imitatio actionis seriæ, &c. per misericordiam et metum perficiens talium affectuum lustrationem.

UNIV. OF
ALIFORNU

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

THE excellence of this drama, which strictly follows the Greek model, lies principally in its majestic moralv strength: the two preceding poems are divine epics; this deals entirely in topics of human nature and human manners. It is not adapted to exhibition on the stage: it is too didactic; and has too few actors and too few incidents. The fable, the characters, the sentiments, and the language are all admirably preserved: the story does not linger, as some have pretended; but goes forward with intense interest to the end. The opening is in the chastest style of poetical beauty. "The breath of heaven freshblowing" gives ease to Samson's body, but not to his mind, which, when in solitude and at leisure, agonises his heart with regrets. Nothing can be more pathetic than the comparison of his present fallen state with his early hopes and past glories; and then the reflection that for this change he had no one to blame but himself:

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind amongst enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age !

Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct,
And all her various objects of delight

Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased, &c.

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