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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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Stoure

Stoure) a fitt.
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser    EK's gloss

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