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.

Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:

Are made a mirror / martyr, to behold my plight
This page is a tag of:
Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
Comment on this page
  • Local Discussion
    •
  • Popout
    •
 

Discussion of "Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:"

Add your voice to this discussion.

Checking your signed in status ...

The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser

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