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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
Virgil, page 3 of 3
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Epic

"epic, adj. and n." OED Online. Oxford University Press, September 2014. Web. 9 September 2014.

adj.
1. Pertaining to that species of poetical composition (see epos n.), represented typically by the Iliad and Odyssey, which celebrates in the form of a continuous narrative the achievements of one or more heroic personages of history or tradition.
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Previous page on path Virgil, page 3 of 3 Path end, return home
Edmund Spenser

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