Milton's Comus, L'allegro, and Il penseroso, with notes etc., by J. Hunter

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John Hunter (of Uxbridge)
1864
 

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第23页 - Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were ail-to ruffled, and sometimes impaired. He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i...
第60页 - To hear the lark begin his flight And singing startle the dull night From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
第62页 - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade...
第66页 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse ; Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
第59页 - 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. Come, and trip it as ye go On the light fantastic toe...
第75页 - Or call up him that left half-told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife That own'd the virtuous ring and glass ; And of the wondrous horse of brass On which the Tartar king did ride...
第61页 - And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale. Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures; Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide...
第57页 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings ; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
第33页 - Yea, even that which Mischief meant most harm Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. But evil on itself shall back recoil, And mix no more with goodness...
第46页 - Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen, and save. Listen, and appear to us, In name of great Oceanus; By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys' grave majestic pace; By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, And the Carpathian wizard's hook; By scaly Triton's winding shell, And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell; By Leucothea's lovely hands, And her son that...

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