The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems
Page 10
With groves of myrrh and cinnamon.
Come lady, while Heav’n lends us grace
Let us fly this cursèd place,
Lest the sorcerer us entice
With some other new device.
Not a taste or needless sound
Till we come to holier ground.
I shall be your faithful guide
Through this gloomy covert 1022 wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your father’s residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wishèd presence, and beside
All the swains that there abide,
With jigs and rural dance resort.1023
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and cheer.
Come, let us haste! The stars grow high—
But night sits monarch yet in the mid-sky.
The scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town and the [Lord] President’s castle. Then come in country dancers. After them, the attendant spirit, with the two brothers and the lady.
SONG
SPIRIT. Back, shepherds, back! Enough, your play,
Till next sunshine holiday.
Here be, without duck 1024 or nod,
Other trippings to be trod
Of lighter toes, and such court guise 1025
As Mercury did first devise 1026
With the mincing 1027 Dryades,1028
On the lawns and on the leas.1029
This second song presents them to their father and mother:
[SONG 2]
Noble lord, and lady bright,
I have brought ye new delight.
Here behold so goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own.
Heav’n hath timely tried their youth,
Their faith, their patience, and their truth,
And sent them here, through hard assays,1030
With a crown of deathless praise,
To triumph in victorious dance
O’er sensual folly and intemperance.
The dances ended, the spirit epiloguizes:
SPIRIT. To the ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that lie
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky.
There I suck the liquid air
All amidst the gardens fair
Of Hesperus and his daughters three,
That sing about the golden tree.
Along the crispèd 1031 shades and bow’rs
Revels the spruce 1032 and jocund spring.
The Graces, and the rosy-bosomed Hours,
Thither all their bounties bring,
That 1033 there eternal summer dwells,
And west winds, with musky wing,
About the cedarn alleys 1034 fling
Nard,1035 and cassia’s balmy smells.
Iris 1036 there with humid bow
Waters the odorous banks that blow1037
Flowers of more mingled hue
Than her purflèd 1038 scarf can shew,
And drenches with Elysian dew
(List, mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roses,
Where young Adonis 1039 oft reposes,
Waxing 1040 well of his deep wound
In slumber soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits the Assyrian queen.1041
But far above, in spangled sheen,
Celestial Cupid, her fair son advanced,1042
Holds his dear Psyche,1043 sweet 1044 entranced
After her wand’ring labors long,
Till free consent the gods among
Make her his eternal bride
And from her fair, unspotted side
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy. So Jove hath sworn.
But now my task is smoothly 1045 done.
I can fly or I can run
Quickly to the green earth’s end,
Where the bowed welkin 1046 slow doth bend,
And from thence can soar as soon
To the corners 1047 of the moon.
Mortals that would follow me,
Love virtue: she alone is free.
She can teach ye how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime—1048
Or, if virtue feeble 1049 were,
Heav’n itself would stoop to her.
ON TIME1050
1633–37?
Fly, envious time, till thou run out thy race!
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping 1051 hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet’s 1052 pace,
And glut thyself with what thy womb1053 devours—
Which is no more than what is false and vain
And merely mortal dross.1054
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when as each thing bad thou hast entombed,
And last of all thy greedy self consumed,
Then long eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss.1055
And joy shall overtake us as a flood
When everything that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine
With truth, and peace, and love shall ever shine
About the supreme throne
Of Him t’ whose happy-making sight alone,
When once our Heav’nly-guided soul shall climb,
Then all this earthy grossness quit,1056
Attired with stars we shall forever sit,
Triumphing over death, and chance, and thee, O time!
UPON THE CIRCUMCISION
1633–37
Ye flaming powers 1057 and wingèd warriors bright
That erst with music and triumphant song
First heard by happy watchful shepherd’s ear,
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along,
Through the soft silence of the list’ning night,
Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear
Your fiery essence can distill no tear,
Burn in your sighs and borrow
Seas wept from our deep sorrow.
He who with all Heav’n’s heraldry 1058 whilere1059
Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease.
Alas, how soon our sin
Sore1060 doth begin
His infancy to cease!1061
O more exceeding love or law more just?
Just law, indeed—but more exceeding love!
For we, by rightful doom1062 remediless,
Were lost in death till He that dwelt above,
High-throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust
Emptied His glory, ev’n to nakedness,
And that great cov’nant 1063 which we still transgress
Entirely satisfied,
And the full wrath beside
Of vengeful justice bore for our excess,
And seals obedience, first, with wounding smart
This day, but O, ere long
Huge pangs, and strong,
Will pierce more near His heart.
AT A SOLEMN MUSIC
1637
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’n’s joy,
Sphere-born, harmonious sisters, voice and verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ,
Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce
And to our high-raised fantasy present
That undisturbèd song of pure content 1064
Aye1065 sung before the sapphire-colored throne
To Him that sits thereon,
With saintly shout and solemn jubilee,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow
And the Cherubic host, in thousand choirs,
Touch their golden harps of immortal wires,
With those just Spirits that wear v
ictorious palms
Hymns devout and holy psalms
Singing everlastingly,
That we on earth with undiscording 1066 voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise,
As once we did, till disproportioned sin
Jarred against Nature’s chime and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed
In perfect diapason,1067 whilst they stood
In first1068 obedience and their state of good.
O may we soon again renew that song
And keep in tune with Heav’n, till God ere-long
To His celestial consort 1069 us unite
To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light.
LYCIDAS1070
1637
In this monody1071 the author bewails a learnèd friend,1072 unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester [in W. England] on the Irish seas, 1637. And by occasion1073 foretells the ruin of our corrupted clergy, then in their height.
Yet once more, O ye laurels,1074 and once more,
Ye myrtles 1075 brown, with ivy 1076 never sear,1077
I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude1078
And with forced 1079 fingers rude 1080
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing 1081 year.
Bitter constraint,1082 and sad occasion dear,
Compels me to disturb your season due,
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.
Who would not sing for Lycidas? He well knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not float upon his wat’ry bier
Unwept, and welter 1083 to the parching1084 wind,
Without the meed 1085 of some melodious tear.
Begin then, sisters of the sacred well,1086
That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring,
Begin, and somewhat 1087 loudly sweep the string.
Hence with denial vain, and coy1088 excuse!
So may1089 some gentle1090 muse
With lucky1091 words favor 1092 my destined 1093 urn1094
And, as he passes, turn
And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud.1095
For we were nursed upon the self-same hill,
Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill.1096
Together both, ere the high lawns1097 appeared
Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,
We drove1098 afield, and both together heard
What time1099 the gray-fly 1100 winds1101 her sultry1102 horn,
Batt’ning1103 our flocks with the fresh dews of night,
Oft till the star1104 that rose at ev’ning bright
Toward Heav’n’s descent had sloped his westering wheel.1105
Meanwhile, the rural ditties were not mute,
Tempered 1106 to th’ oaten1107 flute.
Rough satyrs1108 danced, and fauns with clov’n heel
From the glad sound would not be absent long.
And old Damoetas1109 loved to hear our song.
But O the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone and never must return!
Thee, shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves,
With wild thyme and the gadding 1110 vine o’er-grown,
And all their echoes mourn.
The willows, and the hazel copses green,
Shall now no more be seen
Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.1111
As killing as the canker 1112 to the rose,
Or taint-worm1113 to the weanling 1114 herds that graze,
Or frost to flow’rs, that their gay wardrobe wear,
When first the white thorn blows—1115
Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd’s ear.
Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorseless deep
Closed o’er the head of your loved Lycidas?
For neither were ye playing on the steep,1116
Where your old bards,1117 the famous Druids lie,
Nor on the shaggy top of Mona1118 high,
Nor yet where Deva 1119 spreads her wizard 1120 stream:
Aye me, I fondly dream!
Had ye been there, for what could that have done?
What could the muse 1121 herself, that 1122 Orpheus bore,1123
The muse herself, for her enchanting 1124 son
Whom universal 1125 nature did lament,
When by the rout 1126 that made the hideous roar
His goary visage 1127 down the stream was sent,
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore.
Alas! What boots 1128 it, with incessant care
To tend the homely 1129 slighted shepherd’s trade,
And strictly meditate the thankless muse?
Were it not better done, as others use,
To sport 1130 with Amaryllis 1131 in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neaera’s 1132 hair?
Fame is the spur that the clear 1133 spirit doth raise 1134
(That last infirmity of noble mind!)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days.
But the fair guerdon,1135 when we hope to find,1136
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury 1137 with th’ abhorrèd shears
And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise,
Phoebus 1138 replied, and touched my trembling ears.
Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
Nor in the glistering 1139 foil 1140
Set off to th’ world, nor in broad rumor 1141 lies,
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove,
As he pronounces lastly 1142 on each deed.
Of so much fame in Heav’n expect thy meed.1143
O fountain Arethuse,1144 and thou honored flood,1145
Smooth-sliding Mincius,1146 crowned with vocal reeds,
That strain I heard was of a higher mood.
But now my oat 1147 proceeds
And listens to the herald of the sea 1148
That came in Neptune’s plea.
He asked the waves, and asked the felon 1149 winds,
What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain?
And questioned every gust of rugged 1150 wings1151
That blows from off each beakèd 1152 promontory.
They knew not of his story,
And sage Hippotades 1153 their answer brings;
That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed,
The air was calm, and on the level brine
Sleek Panope 1154 with all her sisters played.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
Built in1155 th’ eclipse1156 and rigged with curses dark,1157
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Next Camus,1158 reverend sire, went footing slow,
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet 1159 sedge,1160
Inwrought1161 with figures dim, and on the edge
Like to that sanguine flower 1162 inscribed with woe.
“Ah! Who hath reft 1163 (quoth he) my dearest pledge?”1164
Last came, and last did go,
The pilot of the Galilean lake.1165
Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain,
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).1166
He shook his mitered locks, and stern bespake:
“How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,
Anow1167 of such as for their belly’s sake
Creep and intrude, and climb into the fold?
Of other care they little reck’ning make
Than how to scramble at the shearers’ feast
And shove away the worthy bidden1168 guest.
Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
A sheep-hook, or have learned ought else the least
That to the faithfull herdsman’s art belongs!
What recks it them? What need they? They are 1169 sped,1170
And when they list,1171 their lean and flashy1172 songs
Grate on their scrannel 1173 pipes of wretched straw.
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
But swoll’n with wind and the rank 1174 mist 1175 they draw,1176
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion1177 spread,
Besides what the grim1178 wolf with privy 1179 paw
Daily devours apace,1180 and nothing said!
But that two-handed engine1181 at the door
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.”
Return, Alpheus,1182 the dread1183 voice is past
That shrunk thy streams. Return, Sicilian muse,1184
And call the vales1185 and bid them hither cast
Their bells1186 and flowrets1187 of a thousand hues.
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use1188
Of shades and wanton1189 winds, and gushing brooks,
On whose fresh1190 lap1191 the swart star 1192 sparely 1193 looks,
Throw hither all your quaint1194 enamelled eyes1195
That on the green turf suck the honeyed show’rs
And purple all the ground with vernal 1196 flow’rs.
Bring the rath1197 primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale gessamine,
The white pink, and the pansy freaked1198 with jet,
The glowing violet,
The muskrose, and the well attired woodbine,
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head
And every flower that sad 1199 embroidery wears:
Bid amaranthus all his beauties shed,
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
To strew the laureate 1200 hearse1201 where Lycid’ lies.
For so to interpose1202 a little ease
Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
Aye me! Whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
Wash far away, where’er thy bones are hurled,
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides1203
Where thou perhaps under the whelming1204 tide
Visit’st the bottom of the monstrous1205 world,
Or whether thou to our moist 1206 vows denied 1207
Sleep’st, by the fable of Bellerus1208 old,