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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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neighbour towne

Neighbour towne) the next towne: expressing the Latine Vicina.
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser    EK's gloss

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