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... and his blithe youth, Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son Much like his
father, but his mother more, Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named ;
Who, ripe and frolic of his full-grown age, Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields,4 At
And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude, Where, with her best nurse,
Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the
various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impaired. He that has
... unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, But most by lewd and lavish act
of sin, Lets in defilement to the inward parts, The soul grows clotted by contagion,
Embodies, and embrutes, till she quite lose The divine property of her first being.
Ilert dwell no frowns, nor anger ; from these gates Sorrow flies far: see, here be all
the pleasures That Fancy can beget on youthful thoughts,32 When the fresh
blood grows lively, and returns Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. And
... The sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought diamond Would so emblaze
the forehead of the deep, And so bestud with stars, that they below Would grow
inured to light, and come at last To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows.
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I much prefer John Kinsella's updated version 'A Dialogic Mask' which, rather engagingly, includes John Milton's original in a beautifully produced hardback. Comus is available from Arc Publications.