Paradise Lost: A Poem, in Twelve Books |
From inside the book
Page 165
... first of things , quintessence pure , Sprung from the deep , and from her native east To journey through the airy gloom began , Spher'd in a radiant cloud , for yet the sun Was not ; she in a cloudy tabernacle Sojourn'd the while .
... first of things , quintessence pure , Sprung from the deep , and from her native east To journey through the airy gloom began , Spher'd in a radiant cloud , for yet the sun Was not ; she in a cloudy tabernacle Sojourn'd the while .
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Common terms and phrases
Adam Angel arms beast behold bliss BOOK bounds bright bring call'd cloud coming created creatures dark death deep delight divine doubt dreadful dwell earth equal eternal evil eyes fair faith fall Father fear fell field fire fruit gates glory Gods grace hand happy hast hath head heard heart Heav'n heav'nly Hell hill hope human King land leave less light live look lost mind morn nature never night once pain Paradise peace perhaps pow'r reason reign reply'd rest rise round Satan seat seek seem'd serpent shape side sight soon spake Spirits stand stars stood sweet taste thee thence things thou thoughts throne till tree virtue voice whence wide winds wings
Popular passages
Page 60 - Tunes her nocturnal note : 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...
Page 221 - So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe, That all was lost.
Page 162 - To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues; In darkness, and with dangers compassed round, And solitude; yet not alone, while thou Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn Purples the east : still govern thou my song, Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
Page 82 - I sdein'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome still paying, still to owe...
Page 116 - Six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments divine: the pair that clad Each shoulder broad came mantling o'er his breast With regal ornament; the middle pair Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold And colours dipt in heaven; the third his feet Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail, Sky-tinctured grain.
Page 21 - To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half enclose him round With all his peers: Attention held them mute. Thrice he assay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way.
Page 12 - He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore: his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views, At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Page 111 - All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private Cell when Nature rests.
Page 13 - They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.
Page 113 - Thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these Thy lowest works : yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. 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.
Bibliographic information
| Title | Paradise Lost: A Poem, in Twelve Books |
| Author | John Milton |
| Publisher | Timothy Bedlington, 1820 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 25 Feb 2008 |
| Length | 305 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |