Sign in or register
for additional privileges

Scalar Milton

Evan Thomas, Milton Group8, Milton Group7, Milton Group6, Milton Group5, Milton Group4, Milton Group3, Milton Group2, Milton Group1, Milton Group9, Authors

You appear to be using an older verion of Internet Explorer. For the best experience please upgrade your IE version or switch to a another web browser.

And of my rurall musick holdeth scorne.

And for my rustic music holds sadness / hate
This page is a tag of:
Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
Comment on this page
  • Local Discussion
    •
  • Popout
    •
 

Discussion of "And of my rurall musick holdeth scorne."

Add your voice to this discussion.

Checking your signed in status ...

The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser

Related:  His kiddes, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.,  Stoure,  Both pype and Muse, shall sore the while abye.,  Shepheards deuise she hateth as the snake,,  As on your boughes the ysicles depend.,  Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.,  Wherein I sawe so fayre a sight, as shee.,  It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine,,  sithes,  And from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,,  neighbour towne,  Yet all for naught: [such] sight hath bred my bane.,  Shee deignes not my good will, but doth reproue,,  All so my lustfull leafe is drye and sere,  Sere,  Colin clout,  And am forlorne, (alas why am I lorne?),  Yet for thou pleasest not, where most I would:,  Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014,  Hobbinol,  And now is come thy wynters stormy state,,  Epic,  couth,  His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,,  His clownish gifts,  Ah God, that loue should breede both ioy and payne.,  John Milton,  With breathed sighes is blowne away, & blasted,,  Albee my loue he seeke with dayly suit:,  I loue thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue?),  Colins Embleme.,  Pastoral,  Thy mantle mard, wherein thou mas-kedst late.,  Edmund Spenser,  Virgil,  The blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,,  Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted,  I loue,  Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,,  So broke his oaten pype, and downe dyd lye.,  Wherefore my pype, albee rude Pan thou please,,  And thou vnlucky Muse, that wontst to ease,  Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see:,  Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:,  And eke tenne thousand sithes I blesse the stoure,,  A thousand sithes I curse that carefull hower,,  The Shepheardes Calender: January,  vnnethes,  Colin them gives to Rosalind againe.,  And laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.,  My musing mynd, yet canst not, when thou should:,  EK's gloss,  Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne:,  auaile,  Rosalind,  My timely buds with wayling all are wasted:,  overhaile