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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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vnnethes

vnnethes) scarcely.
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The Shepheardes Calender: January    Edmund Spenser    EK's gloss

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