The Poetical Works of John Milton ... |
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2 ÆäÀÌÁö
... with his thunder ! and til . then who knew Save what the glimmering of these
livid flames The force of those dire arms ? ... Innumerable force of spirits arm'd ,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope ; 190 That durst dislike his reign :
and ...
... with his thunder ! and til . then who knew Save what the glimmering of these
livid flames The force of those dire arms ? ... Innumerable force of spirits arm'd ,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope ; 190 That durst dislike his reign :
and ...
3 ÆäÀÌÁö
355 In this unhappy mansion : or once more Forthwith from every squadron , and
each band , With rallied arms to try , what may be yet The heads and leaders
thither haste where stood Regain'd in heaven , or what more lost in hell ?
355 In this unhappy mansion : or once more Forthwith from every squadron , and
each band , With rallied arms to try , what may be yet The heads and leaders
thither haste where stood Regain'd in heaven , or what more lost in hell ?
4 ÆäÀÌÁö
... In am Tous ditties all a summer's day ; With gems and golden lustre rich
emblaz'd , While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 Seraphic arms and
trophies ; all the while Ran purple to the sea , suppos'd with blood Sonorous
metal blowing ...
... In am Tous ditties all a summer's day ; With gems and golden lustre rich
emblaz'd , While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 Seraphic arms and
trophies ; all the while Ran purple to the sea , suppos'd with blood Sonorous
metal blowing ...
5 ÆäÀÌÁö
... and fierce with grasped arms And trumpets ' sound , throughout the host
proclaim Clash'd on their sounding shields the ... with spade and pickaxe arm'd ,
Wont ride in arm'd , and at the Soldan's chair Forerun the royal camp , to trench a
field ...
... and fierce with grasped arms And trumpets ' sound , throughout the host
proclaim Clash'd on their sounding shields the ... with spade and pickaxe arm'd ,
Wont ride in arm'd , and at the Soldan's chair Forerun the royal camp , to trench a
field ...
6 ÆäÀÌÁö
No ! let us rather choose , 60 Arm'd with hell flames and fury , all at once O'er
heaven's high towers to force resistless way , Turning our tortures into horrid
arms Against the Torturer : when to meet the noise of his almighty engine he shall
hear ...
No ! let us rather choose , 60 Arm'd with hell flames and fury , all at once O'er
heaven's high towers to force resistless way , Turning our tortures into horrid
arms Against the Torturer : when to meet the noise of his almighty engine he shall
hear ...
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appear arms beauty beneath breath bright bring cause charms clouds dark death deep delight divine dread earth fair faithful fall fear feel field fire flowers force fruit give glory grace hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honour hope hour human kind king land laws leave less light live look Lord lost mind morn Muse nature never night o'er once pain peace perhaps plain pleasure praise rest rise round sacred scene seek sense shade shore side sight smile song sons soon soul sound spirit spread spring stand stood stream sweet thee things thou thought throne till toil train truth turn virtue voice wave wide wild wind wings youth
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110 ÆäÀÌÁö - I hear the far-off curfew sound, Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar: Or, if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the belman's drowsy charm, To bless the doors from nightly harm...
104 ÆäÀÌÁö - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away. And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? — it was — Where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more ! Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
104 ÆäÀÌÁö - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughen'd by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age...
118 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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.
10 ÆäÀÌÁö - Thither no more the peasant shall repair To sweet oblivion of his daily care; No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear...
10 ÆäÀÌÁö - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
44 ÆäÀÌÁö - Yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best...
96 ÆäÀÌÁö - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay; And there he threw the Wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. "Stop, stop, John Gilpin!— Here's the house !" They all at once did cry; "The dinner waits, and we are tired;"— Said Gilpin, "So am I!
11 ÆäÀÌÁö - Where the dark scorpion gathers death around; Where at each step the stranger fears to wake The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake ; Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, And savage men more murderous still than they; While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies.
117 ÆäÀÌÁö - Had ye been there, for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament...