The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson, Том 101790 |
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Стр. 4
... Fathers . To find out the truth of this prophecy , and what to determin thereon , he refers to a full council . What his affociates thence at- tempt . Pandemonium the palace of Satan rifes , fuddenly built out of the deep : The infernal ...
... Fathers . To find out the truth of this prophecy , and what to determin thereon , he refers to a full council . What his affociates thence at- tempt . Pandemonium the palace of Satan rifes , fuddenly built out of the deep : The infernal ...
Стр. 59
... Father , what intends thy hand , she cry'd , Against thy only Son ? What fury ' , O Son , Poffeffes thee to bend that mortal dart 725 Against thy Father's head ? and know'st for whom ; For him who fits above and laughs the while At thee ...
... Father , what intends thy hand , she cry'd , Against thy only Son ? What fury ' , O Son , Poffeffes thee to bend that mortal dart 725 Against thy Father's head ? and know'st for whom ; For him who fits above and laughs the while At thee ...
Стр. 62
... Father , I forewarn thee , fhun His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope To be invulnerable in those bright arms , Though temper'd heav'nly , for that mortal dint , Save he who reigns above , none can refist . 805 810 815 She finifh'd ...
... Father , I forewarn thee , fhun His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope To be invulnerable in those bright arms , Though temper'd heav'nly , for that mortal dint , Save he who reigns above , none can refist . 805 810 815 She finifh'd ...
Стр. 63
... heav'nly - born , Here in perpetual agony and pain , With terrors and with clamors compafs'd round Of mine own brood , that on my bowels feed ? 860 Thou 865 Thou art my father , thou my author , 1 Book II . 63 PARADISE LOST .
... heav'nly - born , Here in perpetual agony and pain , With terrors and with clamors compafs'd round Of mine own brood , that on my bowels feed ? 860 Thou 865 Thou art my father , thou my author , 1 Book II . 63 PARADISE LOST .
Стр. 64
English poets. 865 Thou art my father , thou my author , thou My being gav'ft me ; whom should I obey But thee , whom follow ? thou wilt bring me foon To that new world of light and bliss , among The Gods who live at ease , where I shall ...
English poets. 865 Thou art my father , thou my author , thou My being gav'ft me ; whom should I obey But thee , whom follow ? thou wilt bring me foon To that new world of light and bliss , among The Gods who live at ease , where I shall ...
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Adam afcend againſt almighty Angels appear'd arm'd arms battel behold blifs bright call'd Celeſtial Cherub creatures darkneſs deep defire earth eaſe elſe erft eternal eyes fafe faid fair fair Angels feat feem'd fhall fhould fide fight filent fince fire firft firſt fleep fome fons foon foul fpake ftill ftood fuch fudden gates glory happineſs hath Heav'n heav'nly Hell highth hill himſelf hoft Ithuriel king laſt lefs leſs light loft moſt muſt night o'er ordain'd pafs'd pain Paradife PARADISE LOST pleas'd pleaſant pow'r praiſe rais'd reaſon reft reign reply'd rife rofe round Satan ſeems ſhade ſhall ſhape ſky ſpake ſpear ſpeed Spi'rits ſpread ſtand ſtars ſtate ſtill ſtood ſtream ſuch ſweet thee thefe themſelves thence theſe things thofe thoſe thou thoughts thouſand throne turn'd vex'd wand'ring whofe whoſe wings wiſdom worfe worſe Zephon
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Стр. 13 - Here we may reign secure, and, in my choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.
Стр. 102 - O thou that, with surpassing glory crown'd, Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god Of this new world, at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads, to thee I call, 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...
Стр. 74 - Thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovran vital lamp ; but thou Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs, Or dim suffusion veiled.
Стр. 102 - Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
Стр. 216 - The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts ; then springs, as broke from bonds, And rampant...
Стр. 234 - Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here ? Not of myself; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power pre-eminent : Tell me how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know...
Стр. 57 - And shook a dreadful dart: what seemed his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat The monster moving onward came as fast With horrid strides; Hell trembled as he strode.
Стр. 138 - 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.
Стр. 110 - The birds their quire apply ; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal Spring.
Стр. 234 - Thou sun, said I, fair light, And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?