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Untwisting all the chains that tie
And sable stole of cypress lawn
35 The hidden soul of harmony;
Over thy decent shoulders drawn. That Orpheus' self may heave his head 145 Come, but keep thy wonted state, From golden slumber on a bed
With even step, and musing gait, Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear And looks commercing with the skies, Such strains as would have won the ear Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:
40 Of Pluto to have quite set free
There, held in holy passion still, His half-regained Eurydice.
150 Forget thyself to marble, till These delights if thou canst give, With a sad leaden downward cast Mirth, with thee I mean to live.
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And hears the Muses in a ring
Aye round about Jove's altar sing;
And add to these retirèd Leisure, Hence, vain deluding Joys,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; 50 The brood of Folly without father bred! But first, and chiefest, with thee bring How little you bested,
Him that yon soars on golden wing, Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toys! Guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, Dwell in some idle brain,
The cherub Contemplation; And fancies fond 2 with gaudy shapes And the mute Silence hist along, 55 possess,
'Less Philomel: will deign a song, As thick and numberless
In her sweetest, saddest plight, As the gay motes that people the sun- Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, beams,
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke Or likest hovering dreams,
Gently o'er the accustomed oak.
60 The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of train.
folly, But hail, thou Goddess sage and holy, Most musical, most melancholy! Hail, divinest Melancholy!
Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among, Whose saintly visage is too bright
I woo, to hear thy even-song; To hit the sense of human sight,
And, missing thee, I walk unseen And therefore to our weaker view 15 On the dry smooth-shaven green, O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; To behold the wandering moon Black, but such as in esteem
Riding near her highest noon, Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, Like one that had been led astray Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove Through the heaven's wide pathless way, To set her beauty's praise above
And oft, as if her head she bowed, 71 The sea nymphs', and their powers of Stooping through a fleecy cloud. fended.
Oft, on a plat of rising ground, Yet thou art higher far descended:
I hear the far-off curfew sound Thee bright-haired Vesta long of yore Over some wide-watered shore,
75 To solitary Saturn bore;
Swinging slow with sullen roar; His daughter she (in Saturn's reign 25
Or if the air will not permit, Such mixture was not held a stain). Some still removèd place will fit, Oft in glimmering bowers and glades Where glowing embers through the room He met her, and in secret shades
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, 80 Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
Far from all resort of mirth, Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. 30 Save the cricket on the hearth, Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, Or the bellman's drowsy charm Sober, steadfast, and demure,
To bless the doors from nightly harm. All in a robe of darkest grain,
Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, 85 Flowing with majestic train,
Be seen in some high lonely tower prost.
s the nightingale.
Where I may oft outwatch the Bear There in close covert by some brook,
Hide me from day's garish eye,
And the waters murmuring,
Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep; Whose power hath a true consent, 95 And let some strange mysterious dream With planet or with element.
Wave at his wings in airy stream Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
Of lively portraiture displayed, In sceptered pall come sweeping by, Softly on my eyelids laid;
150 Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, And, as I wake, sweet music breathe Or the tale of Troy divine,
Above, about, or underneath, Or what (though rare) of later age
Sent by some spirit to mortals good, Ennobled hath the buskined stage.
Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But, O sad Virgin! that thy power
But let my due feet never fail
155 Might raise Musæus from his bower; To walk the studious cloister's pale, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 105 And love the high embowed roof, Such notes as, warbled to the string, With antique pillars massy proof, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And storied windows richly dight, And made Hell grant what love did seek; Casting a dim religious light.
160 Or call up him that left half-told
There let the pealing organ blow The story of Cambuscan bold,
To the full-voiced quire below Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
In service high and anthems clear And who had Canace to wife
As may with sweetness, through mine ear, That owned the virtuous ring and glass, Dissolve me into ecstasies,
165 And of the wondrous horse of brass, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. On which the Tartar king did ride; 115
And may at last my weary age
170 Of forests, and enchantments drear, Of every star that heaven doth shew, Where more is meant than meets the And every herb that sips the dew,
Till old experience do attain
These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 175
In this Monody the Author bewails a learned When the gust hath blown his fill,
Friend, unfortunately drowned in his pasEnding on the rustling leaves,
sage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637; With minute-drops from off the eaves. 130 and by occasion foretells the ruin of our And when the sun begins to fling
corrupted Clergy, then in their heighi. His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,
more, Of pine, or monumental oak,
135 Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, Where the rude axe with heavèd stroke I come to pluck your berries harsh and Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
crude, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. And with forced fingers rude 1 magical. 2 adorned.
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing With wild thyme and the gadding vine year.
40 Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear And all their echoes, mourn. Compels me to disturb your season due;
The willows and the hazel copses green For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Shall now no more be seen, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft peer.
lays. Who would not sing for Lycidas? he | As killing as the canker to the rose,
Or taint-worm to the weanlingo herds that Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
graze, He must not float upon his
watery bier Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardUnwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed? of some melodious tear. When first the white-thorn blows;
Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well 15 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear. That from beneath the seat of Jove doth Where were ye, Nymphs, when the respring;
50 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycistring.
das? Hence with denial vain and coy excuse;
For neither were ye playing on the steep So may some gentle Muse
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, With lucky words favor my destined urn, lie, And as he passes turn,
Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard For we were nursed upon the self-same stream.
Ay me, I fondly dream! Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, Had ye been there—for what could that and rill;
have done? Together both, ere the high lawns ap- What could the Muse herself that Orpheus peared
25 Under the opening eyelids of the morn,
The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, We drove a-field, and both together heard Whom universal nature did lament, 60 What time the grey-fly winds her sultry When by the rout that made the hideous
horn, Battening our flocks with the fresh dews His
gory visage down the stream was sent, of night,
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian Oft till the star that rose at evening, shore? bright,
Alas! what boots it with uncessant care Toward heaven's descent had sloped his To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's westering wheel.
65 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Tempered to the oaten flute;
Were it not better done, as others use, Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, cloven heel
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair? From the glad sound would not be absent Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth long;
70 And old Damætas loved to hear our (That last infirmity of noble mind) song
To scorn delights and live laborious days; But oh! the heavy change, now thou But the fair guerdono when we hope to
find, Now thou art gone, and never must re- And think to burst out into sudden turn!
blaze, Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred caves,
75 a tribute
And slits the thin-spun life. “But not Two massy keys he bore of metals twain 110 the praise,”
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). Phæbus replied, and touched my trem- He shook his mitred locks, and stern bebling ears:
spake: “Fame is no plant that grows on mortal "How well could I have spared for thee, soil,
young swain, Nor in the glistering foil
Enow of such as, for their bellies’ sake Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor Creep, and intrude, and climb into the lies; 80 fold!
115 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure Of other care they little reckoning make eyes
Than how to scramble at the shearers' And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
feast As he pronounces lastly on each deed, And shove away the worthy bidden guest; Of so much fame in heaven expect thy Blind mouths! that scarce themselves meed.”
know how to hold O fountain Arethuse, and thou honored A sheep-hook, or have learnt aught else flood,
85 the least Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with That to the faithful herdman's art bevocal reeds,
longs! That strain I heard was of a higher mood: What recks it them? What need they? But now my oat proceeds,
They are sped;3 And listens to the herald of the sea, And when they list, their lean and flashy That came in Neptune's plea.
songs He asked the waves, and asked the felon? Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched winds,
straw; What hard mishap hath doomed this The hungry sheep look up, and are not gentle swain?
125 And questioned every gust of rugged But swoln with wind and the rank mist wings
they draw, That blows from off each beakèd promon- Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread; tory:
Besides what the grim wolf with privy They know not of his story;
paw And sage Hippotades their answer brings, Daily devours apace, and nothing said. That not a blast was from his dungeon But that two-handed engine at the door strayed;
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no The air was calm, and on the level brine
131 Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 100 past Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian dark,
Muse, That sunk so low that sacred head of | And call the vales, and bid them hither thine.
cast Next Camus, reverend sire, went foot- Their bells and flowerets of a thousand ing slow,
135 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers Inwrought with figures dim, and on the use5 edge
Of shades and wanton winds and gushing Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with brooks,
On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely “Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, "my looks, dearest pledge?”?
Throw hither all your quaint enamelled Last came, and last did go,
eyes, The pilot of the Galilean lake;
& accomplish their end.
That on the green turf suck the honeyed Through the dear might of Him that showers,
walked the waves, And purple all the ground with vernal | Where, other groves and other streams flowers.
174 Bring the rathel primrose that forsaken With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, dies,
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and The white pink, and the pansy freaked love. with jet,
There entertain him all the saints above, The glowing violet,
145 In solemn troops and sweet societies, 179 The musk-rose, and the well-attired wood- That sing, and singing in their glory move, bine,
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. With cowslips wan that hang the pensive Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no head,
more; And every flower that sad embroidery Henceforth thou art the Genius of the wears;
186 For so, to interpose a little ease,
While the still morn went out with sandals Let our frail thoughts dally with false sur- grey; mise:
He touched the tender stops of various Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sound- quills, ing seas
With eager thought warbling his Doric Wash far away, where'er thy bones are lay: hurled;
And now the sun had stretched out all the Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
190 Where thou perhaps under the whelming And now was dropped into the western bay. tide
At last he rose, and twitched his mantle Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous blue: world;
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures Or whether thou, to our moist? vows
denied, Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160
SONNETS Where the great vision of the guarded mount
ON HIS HAVING ARRIVED AT THE Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's AGE OF TWENTY-THREE
hold. Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of with ruth;3
youth, And Oye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep
year! no more,
165 My hasting days fly on with full career, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, But my late spring no bud or blossom Sunk though he be beneath the watery shew'th. floor;
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
5 And yet anon repairs his drooping head, That I to manhood am arrived so near; And tricks his beams, and with new- And inward ripeness doth much less apspangled ore
pear, Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: That some more timely-happy spirits So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, endu'th. early : pity.
inexpressible. guardian angel.
7 unknown. reeds.