Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. And sable stole10 of cypress lawn11 And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Aye round about Jove's altar sing; In her sweetest, saddest plight, 30 Where glowing embers through the room Or the bellman's drowsy charm18 To bless the doors from nightly harm. Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tower, Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,19 With thrice-great Hermes; 20 or unsphere 40 The spirit of Plato, to unfold What worlds or what vast regions hold Or what (though rare) of later age And made Hell grant what love did seek; Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke15 Gently o'er the accustomed16 oak: 60 Sweet bird, that shunn 'st the noise of folly, The story of Cambuscan bold,30 Most musical, most melancholy! Of Camball, and of Algarsife, Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among, I woo to hear thy even-song; And missing thee, I walk unseen 10 robe 11 A thin texture. 12 seemly, modest And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous31 ring and glass, On which the Tartar king did ride! 13 The name is Milton's, but cp. Ezekiel x. 14 lead hushed 15 Cynthia (Diana, goddess of the moon) was not drawn by dragons; Ceres, goddess of harvests, was. 16 frequented (by Philomel, the nightingale) 17 A bell rung in olden times at eight o'clock as a signal that fires were to be covered and lights put out. 120 Not tricked and frounced33 as she was wont With the Attic boy34 to hunt, But kerchieft in a comely cloud, While rocking winds are piping loud, Or ushered with a shower still, And let some strange mysterious dream And as I wake,38 sweet music breathe Above, about, or underneath, Sent by some spirit to mortals good, Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister's pale,39 As may with sweetness, through mine ear, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. To something like prophetic strain. 130 140 150 160 170 42 painted to represent stories 43 construe, study These pleasures, Melancholy, give, And I with thee will choose to live. LYCIDAS.* YET once more,1 O ye laurels,2 and once more, Ye myrtles2 brown, with ivy2 never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude 10 Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour my destined urn, 20 And as he passes turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. For we were nursed upon the self-same hill,5 Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill; Together both, ere the high lawns appeared night, Oft till the star that rose at evening, bright, 30 Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 1 Milton apparently had written nothing for three years. 2 Symbols of the poet's rewards. 3 toss, roll 7 The trumpet fly that makes a sharp hissing sound at noon. 8 fattening 4 The Pierian spring at the foot of Mt. Olympus, Jove's *This elegy was written in memory of Edward King, a fellow student of Milton's at Cambridge, who was drowned off the Welsh coast, August, 1637. The sad event and the poet's sorrow are poetically set forth in the pastoral guise of one shepherd mourning for another. The fact, moreover, that King was destined for the Church enabled Milton to introduce St. Peter and voice, through him, a Puritanic denunciation of the corruption among the clergy. See Eng. Lit., p. 149. Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven (That last infirmity of noble mind) heel From the glad sound would not be absent long; And old Damætas loved to hear our song. To scorn delights and live laborious days; But the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone, and never must return! Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert And slits the thin-spun life. 'But not the caves, praise,' With wild thyme and the gadding vine Phoebus19 replied, and touched my trembling o'ergrown, And all their echoes, mourn. The willows and the hazel copses green Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies; Or taint-worm to the weanling10 herds that As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.' O fountain Arethuse, 20 and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius,21 crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood: And listens to the herald22 of the sea, 90 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas? Nor yet where Deva12 spreads her wizard stream. Ay me, I fondly dream! What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle And questioned every gust of rugged wings Had ye been there for what could that have They knew not of his story; And sage Hippotades24 their answer brings, What could the Muse13 herself that Orpheus That not a blast was from his dungeon bore, 60 The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade,15 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? 70 14 Orpheus having angered the Thracian Bacchantes, 15 was torn into pieces by them. poetry 16 i. e.. live for pleasure (the names imaginary) are Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower28 inscribed with woe. On whose fresh lap the swart star42 sparely 43 looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, 'Ah! who hath reft,' quoth he, 'my dearest That on the green turf suck the honeyed show pledge? '20 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 'How well could I have spared for thee, young The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, swain, 130 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread; And call the vales, and bid them hither cast With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 150 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise, Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas Wash far away, where 'er thy bones are hurled; ruth; 160 42 dog-star 43 sparingly 44 early 45 purple hyacinth 46 An imaginary flower that never fades. 47 garlanded bier 48 Islands north of Scotland. 49 world of monsters (the sea) 51 In Spain. 52 Near Namancos; both found on ancient maps. 53 Dolphins rescued Arion the Greek poet when jealous sailors, coveting his treasures, threw him overboard. 54 arranges 50 fable of Bellerus = fabled Bellerus. He is sometimes said to have been a Cornish giant. At the western end of Cornwall is a rock called the Giant's Chair; and near Land's End is a rock called St. Michael's Mount, said to be guarded by the archangel himself, CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Where, other groves and other streams along, | TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL, MAY, 1652 And on the neck of crownèd Fortune proud pursued, While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud, And Worcester's laureate wreath: yet much remains 6 Proceeding from Presbyterian opponents. 7 At the Darwen Cromwell defeated the Scotch in 81. e. state control of religion |