70

The Retreat

LXXV

THE RETREAT

Happy those early days, when I
Shined in my Angel-infancy!
Before I understood this place
Appointed for my second race,
Or taught my soul to fancy aught
But a white, celestial thought;
When yet I had not walk'd above
A mile or two from my first Love,
And looking back, at that short space
Could see a glimpse of his bright face ;
When on some gilded cloud or flower
My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity;
Before I taught my tongue to wound
My conscience with a sinful sound,
Or had the black art to dispense
A several sin to every sense,
But felt through all this fleshly dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness.
O how I long to travel back,
And tread again that ancient track!
That I might once more reach that plain
Where first I felt my glorious train;
From whence th' enlighten'd spirit sees
That shady City of Palm trees!
But ah! my soul with too much stay
Is drunk, and staggers in the way :—
Some men a forward motion love,
But I by backward steps would move;
And when this dust falls to the urn,
In that state 1 came, return.

H. VAUGHAN

To Cyriack Skinner

LXXVI

TO MR. LAWRENCE

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son,
Now that the fields are dank and ways are mire,
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire
Help waste a sullen day, what may be won

From the hard season gaining? Time will run
On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
The lily and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun.
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise
To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice
Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?
He who of those delights can judge, and spare
To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

J. MILTON

LXXVI

TO CYRIACK SKINNER

Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench;

To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause,

And what the Swede intends, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heaven a time ordains,

71

72

Hymn to Diana

And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
J. MILTON

LXXVIII

HYMN TO DIANA

Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,

Seated in thy silver chair

State in wonted manner keep :
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made.

Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wished sight,
Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart

And thy crystal-shining quiver;

Give unto the flying hart

Space to breathe, how short soever :

Thou that mak'st a day of night,

Goddess excellently bright!

B. JONSON

LXXIX

WISHES FOR THE SUPPOSED MISTRESS

Whoe'er she be,

That not impossible She

That shall command my heart and me;

Where'er she lie,

Lock'd up from mortal eye

la shady leaves of destiny:

Wishes

Till that ripe birth

Of studied Fate stand forth,

And teach her fair steps tread our earth;

'Till that divine

Idea take a shrine

Of crystal flesh, through which to shine:
-Meet you her, my Wishes,

Bespeak her to my blisses,

And be

ye call'd, my absent kisses.

I wish her beauty

That owes not all its duty

To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie :

Something more than

Taffata or tissue can,

Or rampant feather, or rich fan.

A face that's best

By its own beauty drest,

And can alone commend the rest:

A face made up

Out of no other shop

Than what Nature's white hand sets ope.

Sydneian showers

Of sweet discourse, whose powers

Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.

Whate'er delight

Can make day's forehead bright

Or give down to the wings of night.

Soft silken hours,

Open suns, shady bowers;

'Bove all, nothing within that lowers.

Days, that need borrow

No

part of their good morrow

From a fore-spent night of sorrow:

73

74

The Great Adventurer

Days, that in spite

Of darkness, by the light

Of a clear mind are day all night.

Life, that dares send

A challenge to his end,

And when it comes, say,

I wish her store

Welcome, friend.

Of worth may leave her poor
Of wishes; and I wish-

—Now, if Time knows

no more.

That Her, whose radiant brows

Weave them a garland of my vows;

Her that dares be

What these lines wish to see:

I seek no further, it is She.

'Tis She, and here

Lo! I unclothe and clear

My wishes' cloudy character.

Such worth as this is

Shall fix my flying wishes,

And determine them to kisses.

Let her full glory,

My fancies, fly before ye;

Be ye my fictions :-but her story.

R. CRASHAW

LXXX

THE GREAT ADVENTURER

Over the mountains

And over the waves,
Under the fountains

And under the graves;