11

类别:文学名著 作者:约翰·弥尔顿 本章:11

    As one , [ 445 ]

    he Aire,

    Forto breathe

    Among t Villages and Farmes

    Adjoynd, from eac conceaves delight,

    tedded Grass, or Kine, [ 450 ]

    Or Dairie, eac, each rural sound;

    If cep fair Virgin pass,

    pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more,

    S, and in .

    Sucook t to behold [ 455 ]

    t, t recess of Eve

    thus alone; her heavnly forme

    Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine,

    her graceful Innocence, her every Aire

    Of gesture or lest action overawd [ 460 ]

    bereavd

    ent it brought:

    t space tracted stood

    From ime remaind

    Stupidly good, of enmitie disarmd, [ 465 ]

    Of guile, of e, of envie, of revenge;

    But t  alwayes in him burnes,

    t,

    And tortures he more he sees

    Of pleasure not for hen soon [ 470 ]

    Fierce e s, and all s

    Of misculating, tes.

    ts,

    Compulsion transported to forget

    us, e, not love, nor hope [ 475 ]

    Of Paradise for o taste

    Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,

    Save roying, other joy

    to me is lost. t me not let pass

    Occasion which now smiles, behold alone [ 480 ]

    tune to all attempts,

    nigh,

    ellectual more I shun,

    And strengtie, and of limb

    , terrestrial mould, [ 485 ]

    Foe not informidable, exempt from wound,

    I not; so much hell debasd, and paine

    Infeebld me, to w I was in heavn.


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