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Adam alfo ancient Angels appear arms beauty becauſe Bentley better call'd called Cant death deep divine earth edition equal faid fall fame Father fays fecond feems fenfe feveral fhall fhould fide fight fire firft fome fometimes fons fuch fuppofe gates give glory Gods hand hath head Heaven Hell himſelf Homer Hume Iliad Italy kind king laft Latin learned light lines living loft Lord manner mean Milton mind moft morning moſt nature never night obferves paffage pain Paradife particular Pearce perfon perhaps poem poet proper reader river round Satan Spirits thee thefe theſe things thofe thoſe thou thought throne Thyer tion turn uſed verfe Virgil whofe whole wings write
26 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.
238 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...
3 psl. - Sing, heavenly muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed, In the beginning how the heavens and earth Rose out of chaos : or, if Sion hill Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God, I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventrous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
470 psl. - And full of wrath bent on his enemies. At once the four spread out their starry wings, With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. He on his impious foes right onward drove, Gloomy as night ; under his burning wheels The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God.
253 psl. - Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain...
174 psl. - Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the sun, Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite.
179 psl. - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
334 psl. - Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
179 psl. - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.