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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 1 of 3
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Pastoral

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

n.
II. A person or thing associated with the tending of livestock.
3. a. A literary work portraying rural life or the life of shepherds, esp. in an idealized or romantic form.
5. Pastoral poetry as a form or style of literary composition.

adj.
 2. a. Of poetry, music, pictures, etc.: portraying rural life or characters, esp. in an idealized or romantic manner; bucolic.
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Edmund Spenser

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