Stoure

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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Stoure

Stoure) a fitt.

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The Shepheardes Calender: January Edmund Spenser EK's gloss

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