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John Milton

John Milton: Paradise Lost – Book 9

  John Milton Paradise Lost Book 9 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. ...

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John Milton: Paradise Lost – Book 7

  John Milton Paradise Lost Book 7 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, ...

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John Milton: Paradise Lost – Book 6

  John Milton Paradise Lost Book 6 All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven’s wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave Within ...

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John Milton: Paradise Lost – Book 5

  John Milton Paradise Lost Book 5 Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours ...

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John Milton: Paradise Lost – Book 3

  John Milton Paradise Lost Book 3 Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam’d? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 23

Sonnet 23 XXIII Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 22

Sonnet 22 XXII Cyriac, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 21

Sonnet 21 XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; Today deep thoughts resolve with me to ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 20

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 won From the hard ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 18

Sonnet 18 XVIII Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes, Which others at their Barr so often wrench: To day deep thoughts resolve with me ...

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 17

Sonnet 17 XVII Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son, Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help wast a sullen day; what may be Won From the hard ...

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