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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
The Miltonic Timeline, page 9 of 12
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John Milton

John Milton
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Previous page on path The Miltonic Timeline, page 9 of 12 Next page on path
Edmund Spenser

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