The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson, 10 tomas1790 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
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
Populiarios ištraukos
13 psl. - 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.
102 psl. - 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...
74 psl. - 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.
102 psl. - 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.
216 psl. - The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts ; then springs, as broke from bonds, And rampant...
234 psl. - 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...
57 psl. - 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.
138 psl. - 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.
110 psl. - 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.
234 psl. - 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?