John Milton

Paradise Lost: Book 07

Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, Above the flight of Pegasean wing! The meaning, not the name, I

Psalm 02

Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti. Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th’earth upstand With power, and Princes in their Congregations Lay deep their plots together

Samson Agonistes

Of that sort of Dramatic Poem which is call’d Tragedy. TRAGEDY, as it was antiently compos’d, hath been ever held the Gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other Poems: Therefore said by Aristotle

Sonnet 01

I O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray Warbl’st at eeve, when all the Woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the Lovers heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,

To My Lord Fairfax

Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings, And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise, And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze. And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings, Thy firm unshaken

To Mr. Lawrence

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won

How Soon Hath Time

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year! My hasting days fly on wtih full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom

From 'Arcades&#039

O’RE the smooth enameld green Where no print of step hath been, Follow me as I sing, And touch the warbled string. Under the shady roof Of branching Elm Star-proof, Follow me, I will

Lycidas

In this Monody the author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately Drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637; And, by occasion, foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy, Then in their

Sonnet 20

XX Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be

To Sr Henry Vane The Younger

Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old, Then whome a better Senatour nere held The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld The feirce Epeirot & the African bold, Whether to

An Epitaph On The Marchioness Of Winchester

This rich Marble doth enterr The honour’d Wife of Winchester, A Vicounts daughter, an Earls heir, Besides what her vertues fair Added to her noble birth, More then she could own from Earth. Summers

At A Solemn Musick

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy, Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers, Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ Dead things with inbreath’d sense able to pierce, And to our high-rais’d

Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us’d, To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast; permitting him the while Venial discourse unblam’d. I

Paradise Regained: The First Book

I, who erewhile the happy Garden sung By one man’s disobedience lost, now sing Recovered Paradise to all mankind, By one man’s firm obedience fully tried Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled In
Page 1 of 712345...Last »