Imatges de pÓgina
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Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,
Or that thy corse corrupts in Earth's dark womb, And last of all thy greedy self consum'd,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb; With an individual kiss;
Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom? And joy shall overtake us as a flood,

Oh no! for something in thy face did shine When every thing that is sincerely good
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. And perfectly divine,

With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine Resolve me then, oh soul most surely blest,

About the supreme throne (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear;)

Of him, to whose happy-making sight alone, Tell me, bright spirit, where'er thou hoverest,

When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Whether above that high first-moving sphere, Then, all this earthy grossness quit, Or in the Elysian Fields, (if such were there;)

Attir'd with stars, we shall for ever sit, Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy

O Time,
flight?
Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall;
Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof

SOLEMN MUSIC.
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ?
Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall (fled, Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's jos,

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some goddess Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head ?

Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd power employ Or wert thou that just maid, who once before

Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce; Forsook the hated Earth, O tell me sooth,

And to our high. rais'd phantasy present And cam'st again to visit us once more?

That undisturbed song of pure consent, Or wert thou that sweet-smiling youth?

Aye sung before the saphire-colour'd throne Or that crown'd matruns,age white-robed Truth?

To him that sits thereon, Or any other of that heavenly brood

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some

Where the bright Seraphim, in burning row, 10 good ?

Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow;

And the cherubic host, in thousand quires, Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, Who, having clad thyself in human weed, With those just spirits that wear victorious palms, To Earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, Hymns devout and holy psalms And after short abode fly back with speed, Singing everlastingly : As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed ; That we on Earth, with undiscording voice,

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire May rightly answer that melodious noise ; To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven As once we did, till disproportion'd Sin aspire ?

Jari'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din

Broke the fair music that all creatures made But oh! why didst thou not stay here below

To their great Lord, whose love their mation To bless us with thy heaveu-lov'd innocence,

In perfect diapason, whilst they stood (sway'd To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe, in first obedience, and their state of goud. To turn swift-rushing black Perditiop hence,

O, may we soon again renew that song, Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence,

And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart?

To his celestial consort us unite, But thou canst best perform that office where To live with him, and sing in endless mom of thou art.

light!
Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child,
Her false-imagin'd loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,

EPITAPH
And render him with patience what he lent;

This if thou do, he will an offspring give, That, till the world's last end, shall make thy MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER'. dame to lire.

This rich marble doth inter
The honour'd wife of Winchester,

A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir,
ON TIME.

Besides what her virtues fair
I'ly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; She was the wife of John marquis of Win-
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours,

chester, a conspicuous loyalist in the reign of Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; king Charles the first, whose magnificent house And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, or castle of Basing in Hampshire withstood an Which is no more than what is false and vain, obstinate siege of two years against the rebels, And merely mortal dross ;

and when taken was levelled to the ground, be. So little is our loss,

cause in every window was flourished. Aymes So little is thy gain !

Loya ute.

AN

. ON THE

SONG

ON

MAY MORNING. Now the bright Morning-star, Day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with

her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill, and dale, doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

Added to her noble birth,
More than she could own from earth.
Summers three times eight save one
She had told ; alas ! too soon,
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness, and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and Fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life.

Her high birth, and her graces sweet,
Quickly found a lover meet;
The virgin quire for her request
The god that sits at marriage feast ;
He at their invoking came,
But with a scarce well-lighted flame;
And in his garland, as he stood,
Ye might discern a cypress bud.
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,
And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throes ;
But, whether by mischance or blame,
Atropos for Lucina came;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at one both fruit and tree :
The hapless babe, before his hirth,
Had burial, yet not laid in earth;
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb.

So have I seen some tender slip,
Sav'd with care from Winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train,
Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flower
New shot up from vernal shower ;
But the fair blossom hangs the head.
Side-ways, as on a dying bed,
And those pearls of dew, she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the sad Morn had let fall
On her hastening funeral.

Gentle lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have;
After this thy travel sore
Sweet rest seize thee evermore,
That, to give the world increase,
Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease.
Here, beside the sorrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon ;
And some flowers, and some bays,
For thy herse, to strew the ways,
Sent thee from the banks of Came,
Devoted to thy virtnous name;
Whilst thou, bright saint, high sitst in glory,
Next her, much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdess,
Who, after years of barrenness,
The highly favour'd Joseph bore
To him that serv'd for her before,
And at her next birth, much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing Majesty and Light :
There with thee, new welcome saint,
Like fortunes may ber soul acquajut,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No marchioness, but now a queen.

ORIGINAL VARIOUS READINGS OF THE ODE AT A

SOLEMN Music. There are three draughts or copies of this song: all in Milton's own hand-writing. There occur some remarkable expressions in these various readings which Doctor Newton and Mr. Warton have not noticed. Ver. 3. Mire your choice words, and happiest

sounds employ, Dead things with inbreath'd sense

able to pierce;
And as your equal raptures, temper’d

sweet,
In high mysterious spousall meet ;
Snatch us from Earth awhile,
Us of ourselves and nalive woe beguile :
And to our high-rays'd phantasie pre-

sent

That undisturbed song, &c. Here, in the first draught, it is “ And whilst your equal raptures;” in the second, whilst is erased, and as written over it. In the secod draught also, the next line was

In high mysterious holiespousall meet; but holie is expunged, and happie supplied in the margin; and, in the last of these original lines, “ native woes” was originally " home-bred

woes."

Ver. 10. Where the bright Seraphim in tripled

row.

Ver. 12. And Cherubim, sweet-reinged squires,

Then called Heaven's henshmen, which means the same; henshman, or henchman, signifying a page of honour.

See Minsheu, and also Mids. 4. Dr. A. ii. S. ji.

“ I do but beg a little changeling boy

To be my henchman."
The Queen of Fairies is the speaker. Milton's
curious expressions are in the first draught.
Ver. 14. With those just spirits that wear the

blooming palms,
Hymns devout and sacred psalmes
Singing everlastingly;
While all the starry rounds and arches

blue
Resound and echo hallelu:

That we on Earth, &c.
Ver. 18. May rightly answere that melodious

noise, By leaving out those harsh ill sounding of clamorous sin that all our music

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And in our lives and in our song

And misty regions of wide air next under, May keepe in tune with Heaven, &c. And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, **In the second draught he describes the May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptunt harsh discordsof sin by a technical term in

raves, music :

In Heaven's defiance mustering all his wares; By leaving out these harsh CHROMATIC

Then sing of secret things that came to pass jarres

When beldam Nature in her cradle was; Of sin that all our music marres : And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old, Ver. 19. As once we could, &c.

Such as the wise Demodocus once told Ver. 28. To live and sing with him in endlesse In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast, morne of light.

While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest,
Are held, with his melodious harmony,

In willing chains and sweet captivity.
MISCELLANIES.

But fie, my wandering Muse, how thou dost stray!
Expectance calls thee now another way;
Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent

To keep in compass of thy predicament :
ANNO ÆTATIS XIX.

Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,

That to the next I may resign my room, AT A VACATION Exercise IN THE COLLEGE, part Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, Then Ens is represented as father of the Predicaa the English thus began.

ments his two sons, whereof the eldest stood for Hail, native Language, that by sinews weak Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speukDidst move my first endeavouring tongue to ing, explains. speak,

Good luck befriend thee, son; for, at thy birth, And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips, The faery ladies danc'd upon the hearth; Half unpronounc'd, slide through my infant-Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spie lips,

Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie, Driving dumb Silence from the portal door, And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, Where he had'mutely sat two years before: Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,

She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst That now I use thee in my latter task :

still Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,

From eyes of mortals walk invisible : I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : Yet there is something that doth force my fear; Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first,

For once it was my dismal hap to hear Believe me I have thither pack'd the worst : A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, And, if it happen as I did forecast,

That far events full wisely could presage, The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last.

And in Time's long and dark prospective glass, I pray thee then deny me not thy aid

Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; For this same small neglect that I have made :

“ Your son,” said she,(“ nor can you it prevent) But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, Shall subject be to many an Accident, And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest trea-O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, sure,

Yet every one shall make him underling; Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight And those, that cannot live from him asunder, Which takes our late fantastics with delight;

Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under; But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire, In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire:

Yet, being above them, he shall be below I have some paked thoughts that rove about,

them; And loudly knock to have their passage out ; From others he shall stand in need of nothing, And, weary of their place, do only stay,

Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing, Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ; To find a foe it shall not be his hap, That so they may, without suspect or fears, And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap; Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears ;

Yet shall he live in strife, and at bis door Yet I had rather, if I were to chuse,

Devouring War shall never cease to roar; Thy service in some graver subject use,

Yea, it shall be his natural property Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, To harbour those that are at enmity. Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound :

What power, what force, what mighty spell, Such, where the deep transported mind may Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian

knot?” Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door Look in, and see each blissful deity

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose ; Ilow he before the thunderous throne doth lie,

then Relation was called by his name. Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings

Rivers, arise ; whether thou be the son Inmortal nectar to her kingly sire:

Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Den, Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, Or Trent, who like some Earth-bom giant,

spreads Written 1627. It is hard to say why they did His thirty arms along the indented meads ; not first appear in edition 1645. They were first Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath ; added, but misplaced in edit. 1073. WARTON. I Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death ;

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ON THE

Orrocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,

So hung his destiny, never to rot Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee; While he might still jog on and keep his trot, Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name;

Made of sphere-metal, never to decay
Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thame. Until his revolution was at stay.
[The rest was prose. ]

Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time :

And, like an engine, mov'd with wheel and weight
AN EPITAPH

His principles being ceas'd, he ended straight.

Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death, ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC Poer W.SHAKSPEARE.'

And too much breathing put him out of breath ;

Nor were it contradiction to affirm,
What needs my Shakspeare, for his honour'd Too long vacation hasten’d on his term.
The labour of an age in piled stones? [bones, Merely to drive the time away he sickend,
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?

Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quick-
en'd;

(streichid, Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?

“Nay," quoth he, on his swooning bed out

If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd, Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,

But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearHast built thyself a live-long monument.

ers, For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, For one carrier put down to make six bearers.” Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart

Ease was his chief disease ; and, to judge right, Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book,

He died for heaviness that his cart went light : Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; His leisure told him that his time was come, Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,

And lack of load made his life burdensome,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving;
And, so sepulcher'd, in such pomp dost lie,

That even to his last breath, (there be that say't)

As he were press'd to death, he cried, “More That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.

weight;"
But, had his doings lasted as they were,

He had been an immortal carrier.
UNIVERSITY CARRIER,

Obedient to the Moon he cpent his date

In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Who sickened in the time of his vacancy, being Link'd to the mutual flowing of the sças,
forbid to go to London, by reason of the plague. Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase
Herg lies old Hobson ; Death hath broke his girt, His letters are deliver'd all and gone,
And here, alas ! hath laid him in the dirt;

Only remains this superscription.
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He's here stuck in a slongh, and overthrown.
'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down; FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE
For he had, any time this ten years full,

UNDER The Long PARLIAMENT.
Dodg'd with him betwixt Cambridge and The
Bull.

Because you have thrown off your prelate Lord,
And surely Death could never have prevail'd, And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy,
Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd; To seise the widow'd whore Plurality
But lately finding him so long at home,

From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorrd; And thinking now his journey's end was come, Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword And that he had ta'en up his latest inn,

To force our consciences that Christ set frce, In the kind office of a chamberlin

And ride us with a classic hierarchy Show'd him his room where he must lodge that Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford ? night,

Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure Pull'd off bis boots, and took away the light:

intent, If any ask for him, it shall be sed,

Would bave been held in high esteem with “ Hobson has supt, and's newly gone to bed."

Paul,
Must now be nam'd and printed heretics

By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call :
ANOTHER ON THE SAMe,'

But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Here lieth one, who did most truly prove

Your plots and packing worse than those of

Trent, That he could never die while he could move ;

That so the Parliament · Birch, and from him doctor Newton, asserts, that this copy of verses was written in the twenty shops-gate-street, where his figure in fresco, with second year of Milton's age, and printed with the

an inscription, was lately to be seen. Peck, at Poems of Shakspeare at London iu 1640. It first

the end of his Memoirs of Cromwell, has printed appeared among other recommendatory verses,

Hobson's will, which is dated at the close of the prefixed to the folio edition of Shakspeare's year 1630. He died Jan. 1, 1630, while the plays in 1632. But without Milton's name or plague was in London. This piece was written initials. This therefore is the first of Milton's that year. The proverb, to which Hobson's caprice, pieces that was published.

founded perhaps on good sense, gave rise, needs Hobson's inn at London was the Bull in Bi. not to be repeated. VOL. VII,

ON THE NEW

May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, And kings be born of thee, whose dreadful Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears,

might
And succour our just fears, Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold.'
When they shall read this clearly in your charge,
New presbyter is but old priest writ large.

From DANTE.
Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause,

Not thy conversion, but thuse rich domains ORIGINAL, VARIOUS READINGS ON THE FORCERS

That the first wealthy pope receiv'd of thee. or CONSCIENCE.

From DANTE.
Ver. 2. the vacant whore Plurality. Founded in chaste and humble poverty,
Ver. 6. To force the consciences &c.

'Gaiust them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy Ver. 12. By haire-brain'd Edwards.

horn, Shallow is in the margin ; and the pen is drawn Impudent whore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope? through haire-bruin'd.

In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth ? Ver. 17. Crop ye as close as marginal P_'s Another Constantine comes not in hastes.

eares.

From ARIOSTO.

Then pass'd he to a flowery mountain green,
TRANSLATIONS.

Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously :
This was the gift, if you the truth will have,

That Constantine to good Sylvester garet.
THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE,
LIB. I.

From HORACE.
What slender youth, belew'd with liquid Whom do we count a good man? Whom but he

odours, Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,

Who keeps the laws and statutes of the senate,

Who judges in great suits and controversies, Pyrrha ? For whom bind'st thou

Whose witness and opinion wins the cause? In wreaths thy golden hair,

But his own house, and the whole neighbour Plain in thy neatness? O, how oft shall he

hood, On faith and changed gods complain, and seas Rough with black winds, and storms

Sees his foul inside through his whited skins.
Unwonted shall admire!
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,

From EURIPIDES.
Who always vacant, always amiable
Hopes thee, of flattering gales

This is true liberty, when freeborn men,
Urnindful. Hapless they,

Having to adsise the public, may speak free ; To whoin thou untried seem'st fair ! Me, in my which he who cau, and will, deserves high vow'd

praise : Picture, the sacred wall declares to have bung

Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace; My dank and dropping weeds

What can be a juster in a state than this ? To the stern god of sea.

From HORACE, From GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH.

Laughing, to teach the truth? Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of What hinders? As some teachers gire to boys LEOcECIA.

Junkets and knacks, that they may learn ape.

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