Ueber den gebrauch des artikels in Milton's Paradise lost

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E. Karras, 1883 - English language - 55 pages
 

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Page 5 - Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it : his mind and hand went together ; and what he thought, he uttered with that easiness, that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers.
Page 39 - Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two Imparadised in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss, while I to hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least, Still unfulfilled with pain of longing pines; Yet let me not forget what I have gained From their own mouths.
Page 25 - We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 52 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Page 51 - But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night, With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet But wherefore all night long shine these?
Page 37 - What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good...
Page 41 - Through many a dark and dreary vale They passed, and many a region dolorous, O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death, A universe of death...
Page 52 - O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
Page 45 - Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day, While smooth Adonis from his native rock Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded...
Page 24 - Adam, well may we labour still to dress This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, Our pleasant task enjoin'd ; but, till more hands Aid us, the work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint ; what we by day Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, One night or two with wanton growth derides, Tending to wild.

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