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.

His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,

His quirks and decorum I hate
This page is a tag of:
Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
Comment on this page
 

Discussion of "His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,"

Add your voice to this discussion.

Checking your signed in status ...


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