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Scalar Milton

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

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As on your boughes the ysicles depend.

Because of you, where my coldness manifests
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Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser

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