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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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His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,

His quirks and decorum I hate
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Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser

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