Some say no evil thing that walks by night, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, Hence hath the huntress Dian' her dread bow, And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought The frivolous bolt of Cupid; gods and men Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th' woods. What was the snaky-headed Gorgon shield, That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin, Wherewith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone, But rigid looks of chaste austerity, § 7. Philosophy. MILTON. How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns! § 8. True Liberty. MILTON. -TRUE Liberty And upstart passions catch the government $9. Powers of Body and Mind. MILTON. OH how comely it is, and how reviving To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor, He all their ammunition § 10. On Shakspeare. MILTON. WHAT needs my Shakspeare for his honor'd bones The labor of an age in piled stones, ing; That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, § 11. Song: on May Morning. MILTON. Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. § 12. Virtue and Evil. MILTON. VIRTUE may be assail'd, but never hurt, Surpris'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd: Yea, even that which mischief meant most harm, Shall in the happy trial prove most glory; And mix no more with goodness, when at last, Self fed, and self-consumed: if this fail, § 13. Patience. MILTON. [sought, Some source of consolation from above, § 14. Sonnet: on his deceased Wife. MILTON. METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband [faint. gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed Purification in the old law did save, [taint And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd So clear, as in no face with more delight. Dilated or condens'd, bright or obscure, § 16. Pain. MILTON. -WHAT avails [with pain, Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life, perhaps, and not repine; But live content, which is the calmest life: But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils! and, excessive, overturns All patience. And oft though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity Cill Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no Where no ill seems. § 18. The Lady reproving Comus. MILTON. I HATE When vice can bolt her arguments, And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous Means her provision only to the good, With her abundance! she, good cateress, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare Temperance: If every just man, that now pines with want, Had but a moderate and beseeming share Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, Nature's full blessings would be well dispens'd In unsuperfluous even proportion, And she no whit encumber'd with her store, And then the giver would be better thank'd, His praise due paid; for swinish gluttony Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, But with besotted, base ingratitude on? Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go Against the sun-clad pow'r of Chastity, and shake, Till all the magic structures, rear'd so high, Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. $ 19. Sonnet to the Nightingale. MILTON. O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes, that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Portend success in love; oh if Jove's will Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate Foretel my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why: Whether the muse or love call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I. MILTON. § 20. Echo: A Song. SWEET Echo, sweetest nymph! that liv'st Within thy airy shell, 22. Affections. How great a toil to stem the raging flood, [unseen | When beauty stirs the mass of youthful blood When the swoln veins with circling torrents By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroider'd vale, Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? Oh if thou have Hide them in some flow'ry cave, Tell me but where, [sphere ! Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the So mayst thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heav'n's harmonies. VARIOUS DESCRIPTIONS FROM SPENSER. 21. Adonis's Garden. BUT were it not that Time their troubler is, All that in this delightful garden grows Should happy be, and have immortal bliss: For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes, And sweet love gentle fits emongst them throws, Without fell rancour, or fond jealousie ; Frankly each paramour his leman knows, Each bird his mate; ne any does envie Their goodly merriment, and gay felicitie. Right in the middest of that paradise There stood a stately mount, on whose round top A gloomy grove of myrtle trees did rise, Whose shadie boughs sharp steele did never lop, Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop : But, like a girlond compassed the hight, And from their fruitfull sides sweet gumes did drop, That all the ground with precious dew bedight, Threw forth most dainty odours, and most sweet delight! And, in the thickest covert in that shade, There was a pleasant arbour, not by art, But of the trees own inclination made, Which knitting their ranke branches part to Wrath, jealousy, grief, love, do thus expell: Wrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed; Grief is a flood, and love a monster fell; The fire of sparke, the weed of little seed, The flood of drops, the monster filth did breed: But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus decay; The sparks soon quench, the springing seed outweed, The drops dry up, and filth wipe clean away; So shall wrath, jealousy, grief, love, die and decay. 23. Ambition. A ROUT of people there assembled were, Of every sort and nation under sky, Which with great uprore preassed, to draw near To th' upper part, where was advanced hie And thereon sate a woman gorgeous gay, That never earthly prince in such array His glory did enchaunce, and pompous pride display. Her face right wondrous faire did seem to be, That her broad beauties beam great brightness threw Through the dim shade, that all men here might see: Yet was not that same her own native hew, But wrought by art; and counterfeited shew, Thereby more lovers unto her to call; Nath'less, more heavenly faire in deed and view She by creation was, till she did fall; Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her crimes withall. There, as in glist'ring glory she did sit, She held a great gold chain' ylinked well, Whose upper end to highest heaven was knit, And lower part did reach to lowest hell; And all that prease did round about her swell, To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby To climb aloft, and others to excell; That was Ambition, rash desire to stie; And ev'ry link thereof a step of dignitie. Some thought to raise themselves to high degree By riches and unrighteous reward; Some by close should'ring, some by flatteree; Others through friends, others for base reward; And all, by wrong ways, for themselves prepar'd. Those that were up themselves, kept others lowe; Those that were lowe themselves held others hard, Ne suffer'd them to rise, or greater growe; But every one did strive his fellow down to throwe. O sacred hunger of ambitious mindes, And impotent desire of men to raigne! Who neither dread of God, that devils bindes, Nor lawes of men that commonweals containe, Nor bands of nature, that wild beasts restraine, Can keep from outrage, and from doing wrong, Where they may hope a kingdom to obtaine, No faith so firm, no trust can be so strong, No love so lasting then, that may enduren long. § 24. Anguish. WHAT equal torment to the griefe of minde, And pyning anguish hid in gentle heart, That inly feeds itself with thoughts unkinde, And nourisheth her own consuming smart? What medicine can any leache's art Yield such a sore, that doth her grievance And will to none her maladie impart? [hide, § 25. Arbour. AND over him art striveing to compaire With nature, did an arbour green dispred, Framed with wanton ivie, flowering faire, Through which the fragrant eglantine did spred His pricking armes, entayl'd with roses red, Which dainty odours round about him threw; And all within with flowres was garnished, That, when mild Zephyrus emongst them blew, Did breathe out bounteous smells, and painted colors shew. § 26. Avarice. AND greedy Avarice by him did ride, Upon a camel loaden all with gold; Two iron coffers hung on either side, With precious metall full as they might hold, And in his lap a heap of coin he told; For of his wicked pelf his god he made, And unto hell himself for money sold: Accursed usury was all his trade, [waide. And right and wrong ylike in equall balance At last he came into a gloomy glade, [light, Cover'd with boughs and shrubs from heaven's Whereas he sitting found, in secret shade, An uncouth, salvage, and uncivill wight, Of griesly hew, and foul ill-favour'd sight; His face with smoake was tann'd, and eyes were blear'd; His head and beard with soot were ill bedight; His coale-black hands did seem to have been sear'd In smithe's fire-speting forge, and nails like claws appear'd. Was underneath enveloped with gold, Whose glistring gloss, darkened with filthy Well it appeared to have been of old And turn'd upside down, to feed his eye, Into great ingots, and to wedges square; Some in round plates withouten monument; But most were stampt, and in their metall bare The antick shapes of kings and Cæsars strange and rare. § 27. Bashfulness. THE whiles the fairie knight did entertaine Another damsel of that gentle crew That was right faire, and modest of demaine, But that too oft she chang'd her native hue. Strange was her tire, and all her garments blue, Close round about her tuckt, with many a plight: Upon her fist, the bird that shunneth view, And keeps in coverts close from living wight, Did sit, asifasham'd how rude Dan did herdight. So long as Guyon with her commun'd, Unto the ground she cast her modest eye, And ever and anone, with rosie red," The bashfull blood her snowy cheeks did die, And her became as polish'd ivorie, Which cunning craftsman's hand hath overlaid With fair vermillion, or pure lastery. Fair damsell, seemeth by your troubled cheare She answer'd nought, but more abasht for shame, Held down her head, the whiles her lovely face The flushing blood with blushing did inflame, And the strong passion marr'd her modest grace, That Guyon marvail'd at her uncouth case: Another. AND next to her sate goodly Shame-fac'dness; Ne ever durst her eyes from ground up-reare, Ne ever once did look up from her dress, As if some blame of evil she did feare, That in her cheek made roses oft appeare. § 28. Beauty. NOUGHT is there under heav'n's wide hollow ness That moves more dear compassion of mind, Than beauty brought t' unworthy wretched ness By envy's snares or fortunes's freaks unkind: Feel my heart pierc'd with so great agony, When such I see, that all for pity I could die. Eftsoons there stepped forth A goodly lady, clad in hunter's weed, Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not, Like roses in a bed of lillies shed, The which ambrosial odours from them threw, And gazers sense with double pleasure fed, Able to heal the sick, and to revive the dead. In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame, Kindled above, at th' heavenly Maker's light, And darted fiery beams out of the same, So passing pearceant, and so wondrous bright, That quite bercav'd the rash beholders of their sight: In them the blinded god his lustful fire To kindle oft assay'd, but had no might; For, with dread majesty, and awful ire, She broke his wanton darts, and quenched base desire. Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure The sense of man, and all his mind possess, As beauty's love-bait, that doth procure Great warriors of their rigour to repress, And mighty hands forget their manliness, Drawn with the pow'r ofan heart-robbing eye, And wrapt in fetters of a golden tress, That can with melting pleasance mollify Their harden'd hearts, enur'd to blood and cruelty. So whilome learn'd that mighty Jewish swain, Each of whose locks did match a man of might, To lay his spoils before his leman's train: So also did the great Cetean knight, § 29. Boar. AND then two boars with rankling malice met, Their goary sides, fresh bleeding, fiercely fret, Till, breathless both, themselves aside retire, Where foaming wroth their cruel tusks they whet, And trample th' earth the while they may respire: Then back to fight again, new breathed and entire. $30. Bower of Bliss. THENCE passing forth, they shortly do arrive. Whereat the Bower of Bliss was situate; A place pick'd out by choice of best alive, Is sweet and pleasing unto living sense, Was poured forth with plentiful dispense, And made there to abound with lavish affluence. Goodly it was enclosed round about, As well their enter'd guests to keep within, As those unruly beasts to hold without; Yet was the fence thereof but weak and thin: Nought fear'd their force that fortilage to win, But wisdom's powre and temperance's might, By which the nightiest things efforced bin: And eke the gate was wrought of substance light, Rather for pleasure than for battery or fight. And therein all the famous historie Of Jalon and Medea was ywrit; The wondred Argo, which invent'rous peece First through the Euxian seas bore all the flow'r of Greece. Ye might have seen the frothy billowes fry And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled, It seem'd the enchanted flame which did Creüsa wed. All this and more might in this goodly gate Be read; that ever open stood to all |