Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

Am pius extrema veniens Jacobus ab arcto Teucrigenas populos, lateque patentia regna Albionum tenuit, jamque inviolabile foedus Sceptra Caledoniis conjunxerat Anglica Scotis: Pacificusque novo felix divesque sedebat In solio, occultique doli securus & hostis: Cum ferus ignifluo regnans Acheronte tyrannus, Eumenidum pater, aethereo vagus exul Olympo, Forte per immensum terrarum erraverat orbem, Dinumerans sceleris socios, vernasque fideles, 10 Participes regni post funera moesta futuros; Hic tempestates medio ciet aere diras, Illic unanimes odium struit inter amicos, Armat & invictas in mutua viscera gentes; Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace, Et quoscunque videt purae virtutis amantes, Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudumque magister Tentat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus, Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes Tendit, ut incautos rapiat, seu Caspia Tigris 20 Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia praedam Nocte sub illuni, & somno nictantibus astris. Talibus infestat populos Summanus & urbes Cinctus caeruleae fumanti turbine flammae. Jamque fluentisonis albentia rupibus arva Apparent, & terra Deo dilecta marino, Cui nomen dederat quondam Neptunia proles Amphitryoniaden qui non dubitavit atrocem Aequore tranato furiali poscere bello, Ante expugnatae crudelia saecula Troiae. 30 At simul hanc opibusque & festa pace beatam Aspicit, & pingues donis Cerealibus agros, Quodque magis doluit, venerantem numina veri Sancta Dei populum, tandem suspiria rupit Tartareos ignes & luridum olentia sulphur. Qualia Trinacria trux ab Jove clausus in Aetna Efflat tabifico monstrosus ab ore Tiphoeus. Ignescunt oculi, stridetque adamantinus ordo Dentis, ut armorum fragor, ictaque cuspide cuspis. Atque pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 40 Inveni, dixit, gens haec mihi sola rebellis, Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. Illa tamen, mea si quicquam tentamina possunt, Non feret hoc impune diu, non ibit inulta, Hactenus; & piceis liquido natat aere pennis; Qua volat, adversi praecursant agmine venti, Densantur nubes, & crebra tonitrua fulgent. Jamque pruinosas velox superaverat alpes, Et tenet Ausoniae fines, a parte sinistra Nimbifer Appenninus erat, priscique Sabini, 50 Dextra veneficiis infamis Hetruria, nec non Te furtiva Tibris Thetidi videt oscula dantem; Hinc Mavortigenae consistit in arce Quirini. Reddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula lucem, Cum circumgreditur totam Tricoronifer urbem, Panificosque Deos portat, scapulisque virorum Evehitur, praeeunt summisso poplite reges, Et mendicantum series longissima fratrum; Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia caeci, Cimmeriis nati in tenebris, vitamque trahentes. 60 Templa dein multis subeunt lucentia taedis (Vesper erat sacer iste Petro) fremitoesque canentum Saepe tholos implet vacuos, & inane locorum. Qualiter exululat Bromius, Bromiique caterva, Orgia cantantes in Echionio Aracyntho, Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus in undis, Et procul ipse cava responsat rupe Cithaeron. His igitur tandem solenni more peractis, Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit, Praecipitesque impellit equos stimulante flagello, 70 Captum oculis Typhlonta, Melanchaetemque ferocem, Atque Acherontaeo prognatam patre Siopen Torpidam, & hirsutis horrentem Phrica capillis. Interea regum domitor, Phlegetontius haeres Ingreditur thalamos (neque enim secretus adulter Producit steriles molli sine pellice noctes) At vix compositos somnus claudebat ocellos, Cum niger umbrarum dominus, rectorque silentum, Praedatorque hominum falsa sub imagine tectus Astitit, assumptis micuerunt tempora canis, 80 Barba sinus promissa tegit, cineracea longo Syrmate verrit humum vestis, pendetque cucullus Vertice de raso, & ne quicquam desit ad artes, Cannabeo lumbos constrinxit fune salaces, Tarda fenestratis figens vestigia calceis. Talis uti fama est, vasta Franciscus eremo Tetra vagabatur solus per lustra ferarum, Sylvestrique tulit genti pia verba salutis Impius, atque lupos domuit, Lybicosque leones. Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus amictu 90 Solvit in has fallax ora execrantia voces; Dormis nate? Etiamne tuos sopor opprimit artus? Immemor O fidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum, Dum cathedram venerande tuam, diadmaque triplex Ridet Hyperboreo gens barbara nata sub axe, Dumque pharetrati spernunt tua jura Britanni; Surge, age, surge piger, Latius quem Caesar adorat, Cui reserata patet convexi janua caeli, Turgentes animos, & fastus frange procaces, Sacrilegique sciant, tua quid maledictio possit, 100 Et quid Apostolicae possit custodia clavis; Et memor Hesperiae disjectam ulciscere classem, Mersaque Iberorum lato vexilla profundo, Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probrosae, Thermodoontea nuper regnante puella. At tu si tenero mavis torpescere lecto Crescentesque negas hosti contundere vires, Tyrrhenum implebit numeroso milite Pontum, Signaque Aventino ponet fulgentia colle: Relliquias veterum franget, flammisque cremabit, 110 Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua colla profanis, Cujus gaudebant soleis dare basia reges. Nec tamen hunc bellis & aperto Marte lacesses, Irritus ille labor, tu callidus utere fraude, Quaelibet haereticis disponere retia fas est; Jamque ad consilium extremis rex magnus ab oris Patricios vocat, & procerum de stirpe creatos, Grandaevosque patres trabea, canisque verendos; Hos tu membratim poteris conspergere in auras, Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pulveris igne 120 Aedibus injecto, qua convenere, sub imis. Protinus ipse igitur quoscumque habet Anglia fidos Propositi, factique mone, quisquamne tuorum Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papae. Perculsosque metu subito, cas£mque stupentes Invadat vel Gallus atrox, vel saevus Iberus Saecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, Tuque in belligeros iterum dominaberis Anglos. Et nequid timeas, divos divasque secundas Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis. 130 Dixit & adscitos ponens malefidus amictus Fugit ad infandam, regnum illaetabile, Lethen. Jam rosea Eoas pandens Tithonia portas Vestit inauratas redeunti lumine terras; Maestaque adhuc nigri deplorans funera nati Irrigat ambrosiis montana cacumina guttis; Cum somnos pepulit stellatae janitor aulae Nocturnos visus, & somnia grata revolvens. Est locus aeterna septus caligine noctis Vasta ruinosi quondam fundamina tecti, 140 Nunc torvi spelunca Phoni, Prodotaeque bilinguis Effera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. Hic inter caementa jacent praeruptaque saxa, Ossa inhumata virum, & trajecta cadavera ferro; Hic Dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis, Jurgiaque, & stimulis armata Calumnia fauces, Et Furor, atque viae moriendi mille videntur Et Timor, exanguisque locum circumvolat Horror, Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes Exululant, tellus & sanguine conscia stagnat. 150 Ipsi etiam pavidi latitant penetralibus antri Et Phonos, & Prodotes, nulloque sequente per antrum Antrum horrens, scopulosum, atrum feralibus umbris Diffugiunt sontes, & retro lumina vortunt, Hos pugiles Romae per saecula longa fideles Evocat antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur. Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit aequor Gens exosa mihi, prudens natura negavit Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo; Illuc, sic jubeo, celeri contendite gressu, 160 Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras Et rex & pariter satrapae, scelerata propago Et quotquot fidei caluere cupidine verae Consilii socios adhibete, operisque ministros. Finierat, rigidi cupide paruere gemelli. Interea longo flectens curvamine caelos Despicit aetherea dominus qui fulgurat arce, Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbae, Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. Esse ferunt spatium, qua distat ab Aside terra 170 Fertilis Europe, & spectat Mareotidas undas; Hic turris posita est Titanidos ardua Famae Aerea, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris Quam superimpositum vel Athos vel Pelion Ossae Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestrae, Amplaque per tenues translucent atria muros; Excitat hic varios plebs agglomerata susurros; Qualiter instrepitant circum mulctralia bombis Agmina muscarum, aut texto per ovilia junco, Dum Canis aestivum coeli petit ardua culmen 180 Ipsa quidem summa sedet ultrix matris in arce, Auribus innumeris cinctum caput eminet olli, Queis sonitum exiguum trahit, atque levissima captat Murmura, ab extremis patuli confinibus orbis. Nec tot Aristoride servator inique juvencae Isidos, immiti volvebas lumina vultu, Lumina non unquam tacito nutantia somno, Lumina subjectas late spectantia terras. Istis illa solet loca luce carentia saepe Perlustrare, etiam radianti impervia soli. 190 Millenisque loquax auditaque visaque linguis Cuilibet effundit temeraria, veraque mendax Nunc minuit, modo confictis sermonibus auget. Sed tamen a nostro meruisti carmine laudes Fama, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum, Nobis digna cani, nec te memorasse pigebit Carmine tam longo, servati scilicet Angli Officiis vaga diva tuis, tibi reddimus aequa. Te Deus aeternos motu qui temperat ignes, Fulmine praemisso alloquitur, terraque tremente: 200 Fama siles? an te latet impia Papistarum Conjurata cohors in meque meosque Britannos, Et nova sceptrigero caedes meditata Jacobo: Nec plura, illa statim sensit mandata Tonantis, Et satis ante fugax stridentes induit alas, Induit & variis exilia corpora plumis; Dextra tubam gestat Temesaeo ex aere sonoram. Nec mora jam pennis cedentes remigat auras, Atque parum est cursu celeres praevertere nubes, Jam ventos, jam solis equos post terga reliquit: 210 Et primo Angliacas solito de more per urbes Ambiguas voces, incertaque murmura spargit, Mox arguta dolos, & detestabile vulgat Proditionis opus, nec non facta horrida dictu, Authoresque addit sceleris, nec garrula caecis Insidiis loca structa silet; stupuere relatis, Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puellae, Effaetique senes pariter, tanteaeque ruinae Sensus ad aetatem subito penetraverat omnem Attamen interea populi miserescit ab alto 220 Aethereus pater, & crudelibus obstitit ausis Papicolum; capti poenas raptantur ad acres; At pia thura Deo, & grati solvuntur honores; Compita laeta focis genialibus omnia fumant; Turba choros juvenilis agit: Quintoque Novembris Null Dies toto occurrit celebratior anno.

On the Death of the Bishop of Ely.1
Anno Aetates 17.

My lids with grief were tumid yet, And still my sullied cheek was wet With briny dews profusely shed For venerable Winton dead,2 When Fame, whose tales of saddest sound Alas! are ever truest found, The news through all our cities spread Of yet another mitred head By ruthless Fate to Death consign'd, Ely, the honour of his kind. 10 At once, a storm of passion heav'd My boiling bosom, much I grieved But more I raged, at ev'ry breath Devoting Death himself to death. With less revenge did Naso3 teem When hated Ibis was his theme; With less, Archilochus,4 denied The lovely Greek, his promis'd bride. But lo! while thus I execrate, Incens'd, the Minister of Fate, 20 Wondrous accents, soft, yet clear, Wafted on the gale I hear. Ah, much deluded! lay aside Thy threats and anger misapplied. Art not afraid with sounds like these T'offend whom thou canst not appease? Death is not (wherefore dream'st thou thus?) The son of Night and Erebus, Nor was of fel1 Erynnis born5 In gulphs, where Chaos rules forlorn, 30 But sent from God, his presence leaves, To gather home his ripen'd sheaves, To call encumber'd souls away From fleshly bonds to boundless day, (As when the winged Hours excite, And summon forth the Morning-light) And each to convoy to her place Before th'Eternal Father's face. But not the wicked-Them, severe Yet just, from all their pleasures here 40 He hurries to the realms below, Terrific realms of penal woe! Myself no sooner heard his call Than, scaping through my prison-wall, I bade adieu to bolts and bars, And soar'd with angels to the stars, Like Him of old, to whom 'twas giv'n To mount, on fiery wheels, to heav'n. Bootes' wagon,6 slow with cold Appall'd me not, nor to behold 50 The sword that vast Orion draws, Or ev'n the Scorpion's horrid claws.7 Beyond the Sun's bright orb I fly, And far beneath my feet descry Night's dread goddess, seen with awe, Whom her winged dragons draw. Thus, ever wond'ring at my speed Augmented still as I proceed, I pass the Planetary sphere, The Milky Way--and now appear 60 Heav'ns crystal battlements, her door Of massy pearl, and em'rald floor. But here I cease. For never can The tongue of once a mortal man In suitable description trace The pleasures of that happy place, Suffice it that those joys divine Are all, and all for ever, mine.

1 Nicholas Felton.

2 Dr. Felton died a few days after Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester. See Milton's Third Elegy.

3 Ovid.

4 A Greek poet. He was refused by Lycambes as a suitor to his daughters, and in revenge lampooned the entire family. Lycambes's daughters hanged themselves.

5 Erebus and Erynnis are Furies.

6 See Milton's Fifth Elegy, line 6, and the note thereto.

7 The constellation Scorpio.

That Nature is Not Subject to Decay.

Ah, how the Human Mind wearies herself With her own wand'rings, and, involved in gloom Impenetrable, speculates amiss! Measuring, in her folly, things divine By human, laws inscrib'd on adamant By laws of Man's device, and counsels fix'd For ever, by the hours, that pass, and die. How?--shall the face of Nature then be plow'd Into deep wrinkles, and shall years at last On the great Parent fix a sterile curse? 10 Shall even she confess old age, and halt And, palsy-smitten, shake her starry brows? Shall foul Antiquity with rust and drought And famine vex the radiant worlds above? Shall Time's unsated maw crave and engulf The very heav'ns that regulate his flight? And was the Sire of all able to fence His works, and to uphold the circling worlds, But through improvident and heedless haste Let slip th'occasion?--So then--All is lost-- 20 And in some future evil hour, yon arch Shall crumble and come thund'ring down, the poles Jar in collision, the Olympian King Fall with his throne, and Pallas, holding forth The terrors of her Gorgon shield in vain,1 Shall rush to the abyss, like Vulcan hurl'd Down into Lemnos through the gate of heav'n. Thou also, with precipitated wheels Phoebus! thy own son's fall shalt imitate, With hideous ruin shalt impress the Deep 30 Suddenly, and the flood shall reek and hiss At the extinction of the Lamp of Day. Then too, shall Haemus cloven to his base Be shattered, and the huge Ceraunian hills,2 Once weapons of Tartarean Dis, immersed In Erebus, shall fill Himself with fear. No. The Almighty Father surer lay'd His deep foundations, and providing well For the event of all, the scales of Fate Suspended, in just equipoise, and bade 40 His universal works from age to age One tenour hold, perpetual, undisturb'd. Hence the Prime Mover wheels itself about Continual, day by day, and with it bears In social measure swift the heav'ns around. Not tardier now is Saturn than of old, Nor radiant less the burning casque of Mars. Phoebus, his vigour unimpair'd, still shows Th'effulgence of his youth, nor needs the God A downward course that he may warm the vales; 50 But, ever rich in influence, runs his road, Sign after sign, through all the heav'nly zone. Beautiful as at first ascends the star3 From odorif'rous Ind, whose office is To gather home betimes th'ethereal flock, To pour them o'er the skies again at Eve, And to discriminate the Night and Day. Still Cynthia's changeful horn waxes and wanes Alternate, and with arms extended still She welcomes to her breast her brother's beams. 60 Nor have the elements deserted yet Their functions, thunder with as loud a stroke As erst, smites through the rocks and scatters them, The East still howls, still the relentless North Invades the shudd'ring Scythian, still he breathes The Winter, and still rolls the storms along. The King of Ocean with his wonted force Beats on Pelorus,4 o'er the Deep is heard The hoarse alarm of Triton's sounding shell, Nor swim the monsters of th'Aegean sea 70 In shallows, or beneath diminish'd waves. Thou too, thy antient vegetative pow'r Enjoy'st, O Earth! Narcissus still is sweet, And, Phoebus! still thy Favourite, and still Thy Fav'rite, Cytherea!5 both retain Their beauty, nor the mountains, ore-enrich'd For punishment of Man, with purer gold Teem'd ever, or with brighter gems the Deep. Thus, in unbroken series all proceeds And shall, till, wide involving either pole, 80 And the immensity of yonder heav'n, The final flames of destiny absorb The world, consum'd in one enormous pyre!

1 Pallas Athena (Minerva) had the head of the Gorgon Medusa in her shield; it turned all who looked upon it into stone.

2 Phaeton, who fled from the chariot of the Sun while driving it.

3 Venus.

4 The North-east promontory of Sicily.

5 The Hyacinth, favorite of Apollo. The Anemone, favorite of Venus.

On the Platonic 'Ideal' as it was Understood by Aristotle.

Ye sister Pow'rs who o'er the sacred groves Preside, and, Thou, fair mother of them all Mnemosyne,1 and thou, who in thy grot Immense reclined at leisure, hast in charge The Archives and the ord'nances of Jove, And dost record the festivals of heav'n, Eternity!--Inform us who is He, That great Original by Nature chos'n To be the Archetype of Human-kind, Unchangeable, Immortal, with the poles 10 Themselves coaeval, One, yet ev'rywhere, An image of the god, who gave him Being? Twin-brother of the Goddess born from Jove,2 He dwells not in his Father's mind, but, though Of common nature with ourselves, exists Apart, and occupies a local home. Whether, companion of the stars, he spend Eternal ages, roaming at his will From sphere to sphere the tenfold heav'ns, or dwell On the moon's side that nearest neighbours Earth, Or torpid on the banks of Lethe3 sit 20 Among the multitude of souls ordair'd To flesh and blood, or whether (as may chance) That vast and giant model of our kind In some far-distant region of this globe Sequester'd stalk, with lifted head on high O'ertow'ring Atlas, on whose shoulders rest The stars, terrific even to the Gods. Never the Theban Seer,4 whose blindness proved His best illumination, Him beheld 30 In secret vision; never him the son Of Pleione,5 amid the noiseless night Descending, to the prophet-choir reveal'd; Him never knew th'Assyrian priest,6 who yet The ancestry of Ninus7 chronicles, And Belus, and Osiris far-renown'd; Nor even Thrice-great Hermes,7 although skill'd So deep in myst'ry, to the worshippers Of Isis show'd a prodigy like Him. And thou,8 who hast immortalized the shades 40 Of Academus, if the school received This monster of the Fancy first from Thee, Either recall at once the banish'd bards To thy Republic, or, thyself evinc'd A wilder Fabulist, go also forth.

1 Goddess of Memory and mother of the Muses.

2 Pallas Athena.

3 Waters of oblivion and forgetfulness.

4 Tiresins. See Milton's Sixth Elegy, line 68.

5 Hermes (Mercury).

6 Perhaps the legendary Phoenician sage, Sanchuniathon.

7 A legendary Assyrian king. Belus is the Assyrian god Bel.

7 Hermes Trismegistus, author of Neo-Platonic works must esteemed.

8 Plato.

To My Father.

Oh that Pieria's spring1 would thro' my breast Pour its inspiring influence, and rush No rill, but rather an o'erflowing flood! That, for my venerable Father's sake All meaner themes renounced, my Muse, on wings Of Duty borne, might reach a loftier strain. For thee, my Father! howsoe'er it please, She frames this slender work, nor know I aught, That may thy gifts more suitably requite; Though to requite them suitably would ask 10 Returns much nobler, and surpassing far The meagre stores of verbal gratitude. But, such as I possess, I send thee all. This page presents thee in their full amount With thy son's treasures, and the sum is nought; Naught, save the riches that from airy dreams In secret grottos and in laurel bow'rs, I have, by golden Clio's2 gift, acquir'd. Verse is a work divine; despise not thou Verse therefore, which evinces (nothing more) 20 Man's heav'nly source, and which, retaining still Some scintillations of Promethean fire, Bespeaks him animated from above. The Gods love verse; the infernal Pow'rs themselves Confess the influence of verse, which stirs The lowest Deep, and binds in triple chains Of adamant both Pluto and the shades. In verse the Delphic priestess, and the pale Tremulous Sybil make the Future known, And He who sacrifices, on the shrine 30 Hangs verse, both when he smites the threat'ning bull, And when he spreads his reeking entrails wide To scrutinize the Fates envelop'd there. We too, ourselves, what time we seek again Our native skies, and one eternal Now Shall be the only measure of our Being, Crown'd all with gold, and chanting to the lyre Harmonious verse, shall range the courts above, And make the starry firmament resound. And, even now, the fiery Spirit pure 40 That wheels yon circling orbs, directs, himself, Their mazy dance with melody of verse Unutt'rable, immortal, hearing which Huge Ophiuchus3 holds his hiss suppress'd, Orion, soften'd, drops his ardent blade, And Atlas stands unconscious of his load. Verse graced of old the feasts of kings, ere yet Luxurious dainties destin'd to the gulph Immense of gluttony were known, and ere Lyaeus4 deluged yet the temp'rate board. 50 Then sat the bard a customary guest To share the banquet, and, his length of locks With beechen honours bound, proposed in verse The characters of Heroes and their deeds To imitation, sang of Chaos old, Of Nature's birth, of Gods that crept in search Of acorns fall'n, and of the thunderbolt Not yet produc'd from Aetna's fiery cave. And what avails, at last, tune without voice, Devoid of matter? Such may suit perhaps 60 The rural dance, but such was ne'er the song Of Orpheus, whom the streams stood still to hear And the oaks follow'd. Not by chords alone Well-touch'd, but by resistless accents more To sympathetic tears the Ghosts themselves He mov'd: these praises to his verse he owes. Nor Thou persist, I pray thee, still to slight The sacred Nine, and to imagine vain And useless, Pow'rs by whom inspir'd, thyself Art skillfill to associate verse with airs 70 Harmonious, and to give the human voice A thousand modulations, heir by right Indisputable of Arion's fame.5 Now say, what wonder is it, if a son Of thine delight in verse, if so conjoin'd In close affinity, we sympathize In social arts and kindred studies sweet? Such distribution of himself to us Was Phoebus' choice; thou hast thy gift, and I Mine also, and between us we receive, 80 Father and son, the whole inspiring God. No. Howsoe'er the semblance thou assume Of hate, thou hatest not the gentle Muse, My Father! for thou never bad'st me tread The beaten path and broad that leads right on To opulence, nor did'st condemn thy son To the insipid clamours of the bar, To laws voluminous and ill observ'd, But, wishing to enrich me more, to fill My mind with treasure, led'st me far away 90 From city-din to deep retreats, to banks And streams Aonian,6 and, with free consent Didst place me happy at Apollo's side. I speak not now, on more important themes Intent, of common benefits, and such As Nature bids, but of thy larger gifts My Father! who, when I had open'd once The stores of Roman rhetoric, and learn'd The full-ton'd language, of the eloquent Greeks, Whose lofty music grac'd the lips of Jove, 100 Thyself did'st counsel me to add the flow'rs That Gallia7 boasts, those too with which the smooth Italian his degentrate speech adorns, That witnesses his mixture with the Goth, And Palestine's prophetic songs divine.8 To sum the whole, whate'er the Heav'n contains, The Earth beneath it, and the Air between, The Rivers and the restless deep, may all Prove intellectual gain to me, my wish Concurring with thy will; Science herself, 110 All cloud removed, inclines her beauteous head And offers me the lip, if, dull of heart, I shrink not and decline her gracious boon. Go now, and gather dross, ye sordid minds That covet it; what could my Father more, What more could Jove himself, unless he gave His own abode, the heav'n in which he reigns? More eligible gifts than these were not Apollo's to his son, had they been safe As they were insecure, who made the boy 120 The world's vice-luminary, bade him rule The radiant chariot of the day, and bind To his young brows his own all dazzling-wreath. I therefore, although last and least, my place Among the Learned in the laurel-grove Will hold, and where the conqu'ror's ivy twines, Henceforth exempt from th'unletter'd throng Profane, nor even to be seen by such. Away then, sleepless Care, Complaint away, And Envy, with thy "jealous leer malign" 130 Nor let the monster Calumny shoot forth Her venom'd tongue at me. Detested foes! Ye all are impotent against my peace, For I am privileged, and bear my breast Safe, and too high, for your viperean wound. But thou my Father! since to render thanks Equivalent, and to requite by deeds Thy liberality, exceeds my power, Sufffice it, that I thus record thy gifts, And bear them treasur'd in a grateful mind! 140 Ye too, the favourite pastime of my youth, My voluntary numbers, if ye dare To hope longevity, and to survive Your master's funeral pile, not soon absorb'd In the oblivious Lethaean gulph Shall to Futurity perhaps convey This theme, and by these praises of my sire Improve the Fathers of a distant age.

1 A fount sacred to the Muses. 2 The Muse of History.

3 The Serpent, a constellation.

4 Bacchus, or Wine.

5 John Milton Sr. was a fine musician. Arion was a lyric poet of Methymna, in Lesbos, who was saved from drowning by dolphins which he charmed with his song.

6 Aonia is a plain in Boeotia. 7 France.

8 The Old Testament Scriptures.

Psalm CXIV 1

When Israel by Jehovah call'd
From Egypt's hostile plain,
Pour'd forth in numbers as the Sand
And sought the adjacent main:
Then God descended from on high
To lead the favour'd Race
To rule o'er Jacob, & his Name
In Judah's Tribe to place.
The Sea at their approach alarm'd
In wild amazement fled 10
And Jordan's flood was driven back
Within it's fountainhead.
The Mountains from their basis shook
Confess'd the Parent God!
With sudden throws like Rams they skipp'd
And broken, fell abroad.
The little Hills by the same power
Were from their Center torn
Like Lambs resistless they gave way
In Tumult wild, upborn. 20
Ye Waves what strange amazement, say,
Seiz'd on you that you fled?
Thou Jordan too! On Israel's march,
Why driven to thy Head?
Ye Mountains whence this sudden fright
That shook you from your base?
And whence, ye little Hills, your flight
From Israel's chosen Race?
Tremble thou Earth! Jehovah leads,
And guards the might Host! 30
That God, who by his awful Word,
Commands the Stream to flow2
From flinty Rocks; & pouring thence,
To form the Lake below.

1 Translated from the Latin, and not Milton's Greek poem. Milton's own English version, presented below, was done, he tells us, "at fifteen years old."

2 See Exodus, chapter I7.

Psalm CXIV

When the blest seed of Terah's faithful Son,1 After long toil their liberty had won, And past from Pharian2 fields to Canaan Land, Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand, Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, His praise and glory was in Israel known. That saw the troubl'd Sea, and shivering fled, And sought to hide his froth-becurled head Low in the earth, Jordan's clear streams recoil, As a faint host that hath receiv'd the foil. 10 The high, huge-bellied Mountains skip like Rams Amongst their Ewes, the little Hills like Lambs. Why fled the Ocean? And why skip'd the Mountains? Why turned Jordan toward his Crystal Fountains? Shake earth, and at the presence be aghast Of him that ever was, and ay shall last, That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush, And make soft rills from the fiery flint-stones gush.

1 Abraham. 2 Egyptian.

The Philosopher and the King.

A Philosopher, included in the same sentence of condemnation with several guilty persons among whom he had been apprehended, sent the following lines, composed suddenly in the moment when he was going to death, to a certain King whom had ignorantly condemned him.

Know this, O King! that if thou shalt destroy Me, no man's enemy and who have liv'd Obedient to the Laws, thou may'st with ease Strike off a wise man's head, but, taught the truth Hereafter, shalt with vain regret deplore Thy city's loss of One, her chief support.

On the Engraver of his Portrait.1

Survey my Features--you will own it clear That little skill has been exerted here. My Friends, who know me not here smile to see How ill the model and the work agree.

1 Greek lines placed by Milton beneath the engraved portrait of himself by William Marshall in the I645 edition of his poems. The handsome Milton disliked Marshall's picture and took revenge with this epigram, which Marshall, ignorant of Greek, engraved beneath the portrait.

Another Translation of the Same.2

Look on myself--you will own at once This Copy of me, taken by a Dunce. My Friends, who gaze and guess not whom ye see, Laugh! Would ye think it? He intended me!

To Giovanni Salzilli, a Roman Poet, in his Illness.
Scazons.1

My halting Muse, that dragg'st by choice along Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy song! And lik'st that pace expressive of thy cares Not less than Diopeia's2 sprightlier airs When in the dance she beats with measur'd tread Heav'n's floor in front of Juno's golden bed, Salute Salsillus, who to verse divine Prefers, with partial love, such lays as mine. Thus writes that Milton then, who wafted o'er From his own nest on Albion's stormy shore 10 Where Eurus, fiercest of th'Aeolian band, Sweeps with ungovern'd rage the blasted land, Of late to more serene Ausonia came To view her cities of illustrious name, To prove, himself a witness of the truth, How wise her elders, and how learn'd her Youth. Much good, Salsillus! and a body free From all disease, that Milton asks for thee, Who now endur'st the languor, and the pains That bile inflicts diffus'd through all thy veins, 20 Relentless malady! not mov'd to spare By thy sweet Roman voice, and Lesbian air! Health, Hebe's sister, sent us from the skies, And thou, Apollo, whom all sickness flies, Pythius, or Paean, or what name divine Soe'er thou chuse, haste, heal a priest of thine! Ye groves of Faunus, and ye hills that melt With vinous dews, where meek Evander3 dwelt! If aught salubrious in your confines grow, Strive which shall soonest heal your poet's woe, 30 That, render'd to the Muse he loves, again He may enchant the meadows with his strain. Numa, reclin'd in everlasting ease Amid the shade of dark embow'ring trees, Viewing with eyes of unabated fire His loved Aegeria, shall that strain admire: So sooth'd, the tumid Tiber shall revere The tombs of kings, nor desolate the year, Shall curb his waters with a friendly rein, And guide them harmless till they meet the main. 40

1 The original is written in a measure called Scazon, which signifies limping, and the measure is so denominated, because, though in other respects Iambic, it terminates with a Spondee, and has consequently a more tardy movement. The reader will immediately see that this property of the Latin verse cannot be imitated in English.--W.C.

2 Diopeia was one of Juno's nymphs.

3 The Aventine hill. Evander, great-grandson of Pallas, King of Arcadia, migrated to Italy about sixty years before the Trojan War.

To Giovanni Battista Manso,
Marquis of Villa.

1Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa, is an Italian Nobleman of the highest estimation among his countrymen, for Genius, Literature,and military accomplishments. To Him Torquato Tasso addressed his "Dialogue on Friendship," for he was much the friend of Tasso, who has also celebrated him among the other princes of his country, in his poem entitled "Jerusalem Conquered" (Book XX).

Among cavaliers magnanimous and courteous
--Manso is resplendent.

During the Author's stay at Naples he received at the hands of the Marquis a thousand kind offices and civilities, and, desirous not to appear ungrateful, sent him this poem a short time before his departure from that city.

These verses also to thy praise the Nine2 Oh Manso! happy in that theme design, For, Gallus and Maecenas3 gone, they see None such besides, or whom they love as Thee, And, if my verse may give the meed of fame, Thine too shall prove an everlasting name. Already such, it shines in Tasso's page (For thou wast Tasso's friend) from age to age, And, next, the Muse consign'd, not unaware How high the charge, Marini4 to thy care, 10 Who, singing, to the nymphs, Adonis' praise, Boasts thee the patron of his copious lays. To thee alone the Poet would entrust His latest vows, to thee alone his dust, And Thou with punctual piety hast paid In labour'd brass thy tribute to his shade. Nor this contented thee-but lest the grave Should aught absorb of their's, which thou could'st save, All future ages thou has deign'd to teach The life, lot, genius, character of each, 20 Eloquent as the Carian sage,5 who, true To his great theme, the Life of Homer drew. I, therefore, though a stranger youth, who come Chill'd by rude blasts that freeze my Northern home, Thee dear to Clio confident proclaim, And Thine, for Phoebus' sake, a deathless name. Nor Thou, so kind, wilt view with scornful eye A Muse scarce rear'd beneath our sullen sky, Who fears not, indiscrete as she is young, To seek in Latium hearers of her song. 30 We too, where Thames with his unsullied waves The tresses of the blue-hair'd Ocean laves, Hear oft by night, or, slumb'ring, seem to hear O'er his wide stream, the swan's voice warbling clear, And we could boast a Tityrus6 of yore, Who trod, a welcome guest, your happy shore. Yes, dreary as we own our Northern clime, E'en we to Phoebus raise the polish'd rhyme, We too serve Phoebus; Phoebus has receiv'd, (If legends old may claim to be believ'd) 40 No sordid gifts from us, the golden ear, The burnish'd apple, ruddiest of the year, The fragrant crocus, and, to grace his fane, Fair damsels chosen from the Druid train- Druids, our native bards in ancient time, Who Gods and Heroes prais'd in hallow'd rhyme. Hence, often as the maids of Greece surround Apollo's shrine with hymns of festive sound, They name the virgins who arriv'd of yore With British off'rings on the Delian shore, 50 Loxo, from Giant Corineus sprung, Upis, on whose blest lips the Future hung, And Hecaerge7 with the golden hair, All deck'd with Pic'ish hues, and all with bosoms bare. Thou therefore, happy Sage, whatever clime Shall ring with Tasso's praise in after-time, Or with Marini's, shalt be known their friend, And with an equal flight to fame ascend. The world shall hear how Phoebus and the Nine Were inmates, once, and willing guests of thine. 60 Yet Phoebus, when of old constrain'd to roam The earth, an exile from his heav'nly home, Enter'd, no willing guest, Admetus'8 door, Though Hercules had enter'd there before. But gentle Chiron's9 cave was near, a scene Of rural peace, clothed with perpetual green, And thither, oft as respite he requir'd From rustic clamours loud, the God retir'd. There, many a time, on Peneus' bank reclin'd At some oak's root, with ivy thick entwin'd, 70 Won by his hospitable friend's desire He sooth'd his pains of exile with the lyre. Then shook the hills, then trembled Peneus' shore, Nor Oeta10 felt his load of forests more, The upland elms descended to the plain,11 And soften'd lynxes wonder'd at the strain. Well may we think, O dear to all above! Thy birth distinguish'd by the smile of Jove, And that Apollo shed his kindliest pow'r, And Maia's son,12 on that propitious hour, 80 Since only minds so born can comprehend A poet's worth, or yield that worth a friend. Hence, on thy yet unfaded cheek appears The ling'ring freshness of thy greener years, Hence, in thy front, and features, we admire Nature unwither'd, and a mind entire. Oh might so true a friend to me belong, So skill'd to grace the votaries of song, Should I recall hereafter into rhyme The kings, and heroes of my native clime, 90 Arthur the chief, who even now prepares, In subterraneous being, future wars, With all his martial Knights, to be restor'd Each to his seat around the fed'ral board, And Oh, if spirit fail me not, disperse Our Saxon plund'rers in triumphant verse! Then, after all, when, with the Past content, A life I finish, not in silence spent, Should he, kind mourner, o'er my deathbed bend I shall but need to say--"Be yet my friend!" 100 He, faithful to my dust, with kind concern Shal1 place it gently in a modest urn; He too, perhaps, shall bid the marble breathe To honour me, and with the graceful wreath13 Or of Parnassus or the Paphian isle Shall bind my brows--but I shall rest the while. Then also, if the fruits of Faith endure, And Virtue's promis'd recompense be sure, Borne to those seats, to which the blest aspire By purity of soul, and virtuous fire, These rites, as Fate permits, I shall survey With eyes illumin'd by celestial day, 110 And, ev'ry cloud from my pure spirit driv'n, Joy in the bright beatitude of Heav'n!

1 Milton's Account of Manso, translated.

2 The Muses.

3 Cornelius Gallus, Roman eleist. See Virgil (Eclogue vi, 64-66, and x).

Maecenas. Roman patron of letters. See Horace (Odes, i,1),

4 Author of the Adone, a poem on the story of Venus and Adonis.

5 Herodotus, to whom The Life of Homer is attributed.

6 Chaucer, called Tityrus in Spencer's Pastorals.

7 The maidens who brought offerings to Delos. Loxo, descended from the ancient British hero, Corineus; Upis, a prophetess; and Hecaerge.

8 Admetus was King of Thessaly. Apollo was for a year his shepherd.

9 See Homer (Il. xi, 830-831) and Ovid (Met. ii, 630).

10 Mt. Oeta, between Thessaly and Aetolia.

11 See Ovid (Met. x, 87-I06), where the trees crowd the hear Orpheus sing.

12 Hermes.

13 The wreaths of victors, made from the laurel, which grew on Mt. Parnassus, sacred to the Muses, and the myrtle, sacred to Venus, a shrine to whom was at Paphos in Cyprus.

The Death of Damon.

The Argument.

Thyrsis and Damon, shepherds and neighbours, had always pursued the same studies, and had, from their earliest days, been united in the closest friendship. Thyrsis, while traveling for improve- ment, received intelligence of the death of Damon, and, after a time, returning and finding it true, deplores himself and his solitary condition, in this poem. By Damon is to be understood Charles Diodati, connected with the Italian city of Lucca by his Father's side, in other respects an Englishman; a youth of uncommon genius, erudition, and virtue.

Ye Nymphs of Himera1 (for ye have shed Erewhile for Daphnis2 and for Hylas dead, And over Bion's long-lamented bier, The fruitless meed of many a sacred tear) Now, through the villas laved by Thames rehearse The woes of Thyrsis in Sicilian verse, What sighs he heav'd, and how with groans profound He made the woods and hollow rocks resound Young Damon dead; nor even ceased to pour His lonely sorrows at the midnight hour. 10 The green wheat twice had nodded in the ear, And golden harvest twice enrich'd the year, Since Damon's lips had gasp'd for vital air The last, last time, nor Thyrsis yet was there; For he, enamour'd of the Muse, remain'd In Tuscan Fiorenza long detain'd, But, stored at length with all he wish'd to learn, For his flock's sake now hasted to return, And when the shepherd had resumed his seat At the elm's root within his old retreat, 20 Then 'twas his lot, then, all his loss to know, And, from his burthen'd heart, he vented thus his woe. Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Alas! what Deities shall I suppose In heav'n or earth concern'd for human woes, Since, Oh my Damon! their severe decree So soon condemns me to regret of Thee! Depart'st thou thus, thy virtues unrepaid With fame and honour, like a vulgar shade? 30 Let him forbid it, whose bright rod controls, And sep'rates sordid from illustrious souls, Drive far the rabble, and to Thee assign A happier lot with spirits worthy thine! Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Whate'er befall, unless by cruel chance The wolf first give me a forbidding glance, Thou shalt not moulder undeplor'd, but long Thy praise shall dwell on ev'ry shepherd's tongue; 40 To Daphnis first they shall delight to pay, And, after Him, to thee the votive lay, While Pales3 shall the flocks and pastures love, Or Faunus to frequent the field or grove, At least if antient piety and truth With all the learned labours of thy youth May serve thee aught, or to have left behind A sorrowing friend, and of the tuneful kind. Go, seek your home, my lambs, my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. 50 Yes, Damon! such thy sure reward shall be, But ah, what doom awaits unhappy me? Who, now, my pains and perils shall divide, As thou wast wont, for ever at my side, Both when the rugged frost annoy'd our feet, And when the herbage all was parch'd with heat, Whether the grim wolf's ravage to prevent Or the huge lion's, arm'd with darts we went? Whose converse, now, shall calm my stormy day, With charming song who, now, beguile my way? 60 Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. In whom shall I confide? Whose counsel find A balmy med'cine for my troubled mind? Or whose discourse with innocent delight Shall fill me now, and cheat the wint'ry night, While hisses on my hearth the pulpy pear, And black'ning chesnuts start and crackle there, While storms abroad the dreary meadows whelm, And the wind thunders thro' the neighb'ring elm? 70 Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Or who, when summer suns their summit reach, And Pan sleeps hidden by the shelt'ring beech, When shepherds disappear, Nymphs seek the sedge, And the stretch'd rustic snores beneath the hedge, Who then shall render me thy pleasant vein Of Attic wit, thy jests, thy smiles again? Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. 80 Where glens and vales are thickest overgrown With tangled boughs, I wander now alone Till night descend, while blust'ring wind and show'r Beat on my temples through the shatter'd bow'r. Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Alas, what rampant weeds now shame my fields, And what a mildew'd crop the furrow yields! My rambling vines unwedded to the trees Bear shrivel'd grapes, my myrtles fail to please, 90 Nor please me more my flocks; they, slighted, turn Their unavailing looks on me, and mourn. Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Aegon invites me to the hazel grove, Amyntas, on the river's bank to rove, And young Alphesiboeus to a seat Where branching elms exclude the midday heat-- "Here fountains spring-here mossy hillocks rise--" "Here Zephyr whispers and the stream replies--" 100 Thus each persuades, but deaf to ev'ry call I gain the thickets, and escape them all. Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. Then Mopsus said (the same who reads so well The voice of birds, and what the stars foretell, For He by chance had noticed my return) What means thy sullen mood, this deep concern? Ah Thyrsis! thou art either crazed with love, Or some sinister influence from above, 110 Dull Saturn's influence oft the shepherd rue, His leaden shaft oblique has pierced thee through. Go, go, my lambs, unpastur'd as ye are, My thoughts are all now due to other care. The Nymphs amazed my melancholy see, And, Thyrsis! cry--what will become of thee? What would'st thou, Thyrsis? such should not appear The brow of youth, stern, gloomy, and severe, Brisk youth should laugh and love--ah shun the fate Of those twice wretched mopes who love too late! 120 Go, go, my lambs, unpastur'd as ye are, My thoughts are all now due to other care. Aegle with Hyas came, to sooth my pain, And Baucis' daughter, Dryope the vain,4 Fair Dryope, for voice and finger neat Known far and near, and for her self-conceit, Came Chloris too, whose cottage on the lands That skirt the Idumanian current stands; But all in vain they came, and but to see Kind words and comfortable lost on me. 130 Go, go, my lambs, unpastur'd as ye are, My thoughts are all now due to other care. Ah blest indiff'rence of the playful herd, None by his fellow chosen or preferr'd! No bonds of amity the flocks enthrall, But each associates and is pleased with all; So graze the dappled deer in num'rous droves, And all his kind alike the zebra loves' The same law governs where the billows roar And Proteus' shoals o'erspread the desert shore; 140 The sparrow, meanest of the feather'd race, His fit companion finds in ev'ry place, With whom he picks the grain that suits him best, Flits here and there, and late returns to rest, And whom if chance the falcon make his prey, Or Hedger with his well-aim'd arrow slay, For no such loss the gay survivor grieves' New love he seeks, and new delight receives. We only, an obdurate kind, rejoice, Scorning all others, in a single choice, 150 We scarce in thousands meet one kindred mind, And if the long-sought good at last we find, When least we fear it, Death our treasure steals, And gives our heart a wound that nothing heals. Go, go, my lambs, unpastur'd as ye are, My thoughts are all now due to other care. Ah, what delusion lured me from my flocks, To traverse Alpine snows, and rugged rocks! What need so great had I to visit Rome Now sunk in ruins, and herself a tomb? 160 Or, had she flourish'd still as when, of old For her sake Tityrus forsook his fold, What need so great had I t'incur a pause Of thy sweet intercourse for such a cause, For such a cause to place the roaring sea, Rocks, mountains, woods, between my friend and me? Else, I had grasp'd thy feeble hand, composed Thy decent limbs, thy drooping eye-lids closed, And, at the last, had said--Farewell--Ascend-- Nor even in the skies forget thy friend. 170 Go, go, my lambs, untended homeward fare, My thoughts are all now due to other care. Although well-pleas'd, ye tuneful Tuscan swains! My mind the mem'ry of your worth retains, Yet not your worth can teach me less to mourn My Damon lost--He too was Tuscan born, Born in your Lucca, city of renown, And Wit possess'd and Genius like your own. Oh how elate was I, when, stretch'd beside The murm'ring course of Arno's breezy tide, 180 Beneath the poplar-grove I pass'd my hours, Now cropping myrtles, and now vernal flow'rs, And hearing, as I lay at ease along, Your swains contending for the prize of song! I also dared attempt (and, as it seems Not much displeas'd attempting) various themes, For even I can presents boast from you, The shepherd's pipe and osier basket too, And Dati and Francini both have made My name familiar to the beechen shade, 190 And they are learn'd, and each in ev'ry place Renown'd for song, and both of Lydian Race. Go, go, my lambs, untended homeward fare, My thoughts are all now due to other care. While bright the dewy grass with moon-beams shone, And I stood hurdling in my kids alone, How often have I said (but thou had'st found Ere then thy dark cold lodgment under-ground) Now Damon sings, or springes sets for hares, Or wicker-work for various use prepares! 200 How oft, indulging Fancy, have I plann'd New scenes of pleasure, that I hop'd at hand, Call'd thee abroad as I was wont, and cried-- What hoa, my friend--come, lay thy task aside-- Haste, let us forth together, and beguile The heat beneath yon whisp'ring shades awhile, Or on the margin stray of Colne's5 clear flood, Or where Cassivelan's grey turrets stood! There thou shalt cull me simples, and shalt teach Thy friend the name and healing pow'rs of each, 210 From the tall blue-bell to the dwarfish weed, What the dry land and what the marshes breed, For all their kinds alike to thee are known, And the whole art of Galen6 is thy own. Ah, perish Galen's art, and wither'd be The useless herbs that gave not health to thee! Twelve evenings since, as in poetic dream I meditating sat some statelier theme, The reeds no sooner touch'd my lip, though new And unassay'd before, than wide they flew, 220 Bursting their waxen bands, nor could sustain The deep-ton'd music of the solemn strain; And I am vain perhaps, but will tell How proud a theme I choose--ye groves farewell! Go, go, my lambs, untended homeward fare, My thoughts are all now due to other care. Of Brutus, Dardan Chief, my song shall be,7 How with his barks he plough'd the British sea, First from Rutupia's tow'ring headland seen, And of his consort's reign, fair Imogen; 230 Of Brennus and Belinus, brothers bold,8 And of Arviragus, and how of old Our hardy sires th'Armorican controll'd, And the wife of Gorlois, who, surprised By Uther in her husband's form disguised, (Such was the force of Merlin's art) became Pregnant with Arthur of heroic fame.9 These themes I now revolve--and Oh--if Fate Proportion to these themes my lengthen'd date, Adieu my shepherd's-reed--yon pine-tree bough 240 Shall be thy future home, there dangle Thou Forgotten and disus'd, unless ere long Thou change thy Latin for a British song. A British?--even so--the pow'rs of Man Are bounded; little is the most he can, And it shall well suffice me, and shall be Fame and proud recompense enough for me, If Usa10 golden-hair'd my verse may learn, If Alain, bending o'er his chrystal urn, Swift-whirling Abra, Trent's o'ershadow'd stream, 250 Thames, lovelier far than all in my esteem Tamar's ore-tinctur'd flood, and, after these, The wave-worn shores of utmost Orcades Go, go, my lambs, untended homeward fare, My thoughts are all now due to other care. All this I kept in leaves of laurel-rind Enfolded safe, and for thy view design'd, This--and a gift from Manso's hand beside, (Manso, not least his native city's pride) Two cups, that radiant as their giver shone, 260 Adorn'd by sculpture with a double zone. The spring was graven there; here, slowly wind The Red-Sea shores with groves of spices lined; Her plumes of various hues amid the boughs The sacred, solitary Phoenix shows, And, watchful of the dawn, reverts her head To see Aurora11 leave her wat'ry bed. In other part, th'expansive vault above, And there too, even there, the God of love; With quiver arm'd he mounts, his torch displays 270 A vivid light, his gem-tip'd arrows blaze, Around, his bright and fiery eyes he rolls, Nor aims at vulgar minds or little souls Nor deigns one look below, but aiming high Sends every arrow to the lofty sky, Hence, forms divine, and minds immortal learn The pow'r of Cupid, and enamour'd burn. Thou also Damon (neither need I fear That hope delusive) thou art also there; For whither should simplicity like thine 280 Retire, where else such spotless virtue shine? Thou dwell'st not (thought profane) in shades below, Nor tears suit thee--cease then my tears to flow, Away with grief on Damon ill-bestow'd, Who, pure himself, has found a pure abode, Has pass'd the show'ry arch, henceforth resides With saints and heroes, and from flowing tides Quaffs copious immortality and joy With hallow'd lips. Oh! blest without alloy, And now enrich'd with all that faith can claim, 290 Look down entreated by whatever name, If Damon please thee most (that rural sound) Shall oft with ecchoes fill the groves around) Or if Diodatus, by which alone In those ethereal mansions thou art known. Thy blush was maiden, and thy youth the taste Of wedded bliss knew never, pure and chaste, The honours, therefore, by divine decree The lot of virgin worth are giv'n to thee; Thy brows encircled with a radiant band, 300 And the green palm-branch waving in thy hand Thou immortal Nuptials shalt rejoice And join with seraphs thy according voice, Where rapture reigns, and the ecstatic lyre Guides the blest orgies of the blazing quire.

1 A river in Sicily.

2 Subject of Theocritus's Lament for Daphnis (Idyl i) in which Thyrsis is the mourning shepherd. Hylas was taken away by nymphs who admired his beauty and Bion is the subject of Moschus's Epitaph of Bion (Idyl iii).

3 Goddess who was protector of the flocks. Faunus is god of the plains and hills around Rome.

4 Characters in Ovid's Metamorphoses.

5 A river near St. Albans. Cassivellaunus was a British chieftan who opposed Caesar. See Gallic War (v, xi.)

6 Medicine. Diodati took medical training at Cambridge.

7 Milton's planned epic opened with the Dardanian (i.e. Trojan) fleet, under Brutus, approaching England.

8 Brennus and Belinus were kings of Brittany who, according to Spencer's Fairie Queen, "rasackt Greece" and conquered France and Germany. Arviragus led the Britons against Claudius.

9 See Malory's Morte d'Arthur.

10 A river in Oxford.

11 Goddess of the Dawn.

To Mr. John Rouse,
Librarian of the University of Oxford,

An Ode1 on a Lost Volume of my Poems Which He
Desired Me to Replace that He Might Add
Them to My Other Works Deposited in the Library.

Strophe I

My two-fold Book! single in show But double in Contents, Neat, but not curiously adorn'd Which in his early youth, A poet gave, no lofty one in truth Although an earnest wooer of the Muse-- Say, while in cool Ausonian2 shades Or British wilds he roam'd, Striking by turns his native lyre, By turns the Daunian lute 10 And stepp'd almost in air,--

Antistrophe