The poetical works of John Milton, ed. with a critical memoir by W.M. Rossetti, 第 322 期1871 |
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第xix页
... delight of his diction and music - his “ numbers , ” as an elder generation of critics used happily to phrase it- must be pronounced deficient in the primary sense of poetry . From a certain point of view , there is no poet more diffi ...
... delight of his diction and music - his “ numbers , ” as an elder generation of critics used happily to phrase it- must be pronounced deficient in the primary sense of poetry . From a certain point of view , there is no poet more diffi ...
第1页
... delight ; which consists only in apt num- bers , fit quantity of syllables , and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another , not in the jingling sound of like endings , a fault avoided by the learned Ancients both in ...
... delight ; which consists only in apt num- bers , fit quantity of syllables , and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another , not in the jingling sound of like endings , a fault avoided by the learned Ancients both in ...
第2页
... Delight thee more , and Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song , That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian mount , while it pursues Things unattempted yet ...
... Delight thee more , and Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song , That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian mount , while it pursues Things unattempted yet ...
第5页
... delight , As being the contrary to his high will , Whom we resist . If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good , Our labour must be to pervert that end , And out of good still to find means of evil ; Which oft ...
... delight , As being the contrary to his high will , Whom we resist . If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good , Our labour must be to pervert that end , And out of good still to find means of evil ; Which oft ...
第5页
... delight of his diction and music - his " numbers , " as an elder generation of critics used happily to phrase it— must be pronounced deficient in the primary sense of poetry . From a certain point of view , there is no poet more diffi ...
... delight of his diction and music - his " numbers , " as an elder generation of critics used happily to phrase it— must be pronounced deficient in the primary sense of poetry . From a certain point of view , there is no poet more diffi ...
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常见术语和短语
Adam agni amorous angels ANTISTROPHE arms aught behold bliss bright burning lake call'd cherubim Chor cloud Comus Dagon dark death deep delight didst divine doth dread dwell earth eternal evil eyes fair Father Faunus fear fire flame flowers fræna fruit glory gods grace hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven heavenly hell hill honour Israel John Milton Jove King light live Lord lost Lycidas Messiah mihi Milton mind mortal Muse night numbers numina nymphs o'er Paradise Paradise Lost pass'd peace Philistines Phoebus praise quæ reign return'd round Satan seat seem'd serpent shade shalt sight Son of God song soon soul spake spirits stood sweet taste thee thence thine things thither thou art thou hast thoughts throne Thyrsis thyself tibi tree Tu quoque turn'd verse vex'd virtue voice whence wings wonder
热门引用章节
第296页 - 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, When by the rout that made the hideous roar, His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift...
第296页 - Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears: "Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
第61页 - Join voices, all ye living souls ! Ye birds, That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise. "Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ! Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. " Hail, universal Lord ! be bounteous still To give us only good; and, if the night Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, Disperse it, as now light...
第301页 - 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 bellman's drowsy charm To bless the doors from nightly harm.
第295页 - YET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more, Ye Myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
第325页 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May ! that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
第305页 - While the ploughman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
第294页 - 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.
第xxiii页 - Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave ; nor did there want Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven •, The roof was fretted gold.
第319页 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.