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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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Thy mantle mard, wherein thou mas-kedst late.

The mantle / beauty ruined by the late snow
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Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014  View all tags
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser

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