BLTC Press Titles


available for Kindle at Amazon.com


The Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Thomas Carlyle, Rudolf Steiner


The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

A. Conan Doyle


Darby O'Gill and the Little People

Hermenie Templeton Kavanagh


The Picture of Dorian Gray

Oscar Wilde


Paradise lost

by John Milton

Excerpt:

Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair:
And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer.
O prince, O chief of many throned powers,
That led the imbattel'd seraphim to war
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds
Fearless, endanger'd heaven's perpetual king;
And put to proof his high supremacy,
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate,
Too well I see and rue the dire event,
That with sad overthrow and foul defeat
Hath lost us heaven, and all this mighty host
In horrible destruction laid thus low,
As far as gods and heavenly essences
Can perisri: for the mind and spirit remains
Invincible, and vigour soon returns,
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state
Here swallow'd up in endless misery.
But what if he our conqueror, (whom I now
Of force believe almighty, since no less
Than such could have o'er-power'd such force as ours)
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire
Strongly to suffer and support our pains,
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,.

Or do him mightier service as his thralls

By right of war, whate'er his business be

Here in the heart of hell to work in fire,

Or do his errands in the gloomy deep;

What can it then avail though yet we feel

Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being

To undergo eternal punishment?

Whereto with speedy words the arch-fiend reply'd.

Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable Doing or suffering: but of this be sure, To do ought good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our sole delight, As being the contrary to his high will Whom we resist. If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, Our labour must be to pervert that end, And out of good still to find means of evil; Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost councils from their destin'd aim. But see the angry victor hath recall'd His ministers of vengeance and pursuit Back to the gates of heaven: the sulphurous hail Shot after us in storm, o'er blown hath laid

The fiery surge, that from the precipice

Of heaven receiv'd us falling, and the thunder,

Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,

Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now

To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.

Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn,

Or satiate fury yield it from our foe.

Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,

The seat of desolation, void of light,

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames

Casts pale and dreadful? thither let us tend

From off the tossing of these fiery waves,

There rest, if any rest can harbour there,

And re-assembling our afflicted powers,

Consult how we may henceforth most offend

Our enemy, our own loss how repair,

How overcome this dire calamity,

What reinforcement we may gain from hope,

If not what resolution from despair.

Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides, Prone on the flood, extended long and large,

Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge

As whom the fables name of monstrous size,

Titanian, or earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,

Briareos or Typhon, whom the den

By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea beast

Leviathan, which God of all his works

Created hugest that swim the ocean stream:

Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam,

The pilot of some small night-founder'd skifl",

Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,

With fixed anchor in his scaly rind,

Moors by his side under the lee, while night

Invests the sea, and wished morn delays:


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