L'allegro, Il penseroso and Lycidas, with life of Milton, intr. and notes by E. Storr

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Page 27 - Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato to unfold What worlds, or what vast regions hold The immortal mind, that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook...
Page 34 - Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Page 13 - HENCE, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly ! There's nought in this life sweet, If man were wise to see 't, But only melancholy; Oh ! sweetest melancholy.
Page 58 - Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Page 21 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and cranks,* and wanton* wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Page 27 - Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the bellman's drowsy charm To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Page 23 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength ; And, crop-full, out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Page 23 - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks...
Page 33 - Where the great Vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold. Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth: And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
Page 25 - While yet there was no fear of Jove. Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, Sober, steadfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain Flowing with majestic train, And sable stole of cypress lawn Over thy decent shoulders drawn.

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