Milton

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D. Appleton, 1879 - 167 páginas
 

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Página 35 - Neither do I think it shame to covenant with any knowing reader that for some few years yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment of what I am now indebted...
Página 149 - I modestly but freely told him ; and after some further discourse about it, I pleasantly said to him, " Thou hast said much here of Paradise Lost, but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found?
Página 35 - I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amorist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame Memory and her Siren Daughters; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Página 145 - But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 0 Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; Till pride, and worse ambition, threw me down, Warring in heaven against heaven's matchless King.
Página 167 - Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 166 - Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt. Dispraise or blame, nothing but well and fair. And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Página 13 - Xenophon : where, if I should tell ye what I learnt of chastity and love, — I mean that which is truly so, — whose charming cup is only virtue, which she bears in her hand to those who are worthy (the rest are cheated with a thick intoxicating potion, which a certain sorceress, the abuser of love's name, carries about...
Página 149 - This is owing to you, for you put it into my head by the question you put to me at Chalfont, which before I had not thought of.
Página 5 - Yea, our blind Poet, who, in his later day, Stood almost single; uttering odious truth — Darkness before, and danger's voice behind, Soul awful — if the earth has ever lodged An awful soul — I seemed to see him here...

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