The Complete Poetry of John Milton

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The Complete Poetry of John Milton Page 15

by John Milton


  ’Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy.

  5

  Find out som uncouth3 cell,

  Wher brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings,

  And the night-Raven sings;

  There under Ebon shades, and low-brow’d Rocks,

  As ragged as thy Locks,

  10

  In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.

  But com thou Goddes fair and free,

  In Heav’n yclept4 Euphrosyne,

  And by men, heart-easing Mirth,

  Whom lovely Venus at a birth

  15

  With two sister Graces more

  To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;

  Or whether (as som Sager5 sing)

  The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring,

  Zephir with Aurora playing,

  20

  As he met her once a-Maying,

  There on Beds of Violets blew,

  And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew,

  Fill’d her with thee a daughter fair,

  So bucksom, blith, and debonair.

  25

  Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee

  Jest and youthful Jollity,

  Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,

  Nods, and Becks, and Wreathed Smiles,

  Such as hang on Hebe’s6 cheek,

  30

  And love to live in dimple sleek;

  Sport that wrincled Care derides,

  And Laughter holding both his sides.

  Com, and trip it as ye go

  On the light fantastick toe,

  35

  And in thy right hand lead with thee

  The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;

  And if I give thee honour due,

  Mirth, admit me of thy crew

  To live with her, and live with thee,

  40

  In unreproved pleasures free;

  To hear the Lark begin his flight,

  And singing startle the dull night,

  From his watch-towr in the skies,

  Till the dappled dawn doth rise;

  45

  Then to com in spight of sorrow,

  And at my window bid good morrow

  Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine,

  Or the twisted Eglantine.

  While the Cock with lively din

  50

  Scatters the rear of darknes thin,

  And to the stack, or the Barn dore,

  Stoutly struts his Dames before,

  Oft list’ning how the Hounds and horn,

  Chearly rouse the slumbring morn,

  55

  From the side of som Hoar7 Hill,

  Through the high wood echoing shrill.

  Som time walking not unseen8

  By Hedge-row Elms, or Hillocks green,

  Right against the Eastern gate,

  60

  Wher the great Sun begins his state,9

  Rob’d in flames, and Amber light,

  The clouds in thousand Liveries dight,

  While the Plowman neer at hand

  Whistles o’re the Furrow’d Land,

  65

  And the Milkmaid singeth blithe,

  And the Mower whets his sithe,

  And every Shepherd tells his tale

  Under the Hawthorn in the dale.

  Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures

  70

  Whilst the Lantskip round it measures

  Russet Lawns, and Fallows gray,

  Where the nibling flocks do stray,

  Mountains on whose barren brest

  The labouring clouds do often rest:

  75

  Meadows trim with Daisies pide,10

  Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.

  Towers, and Battlements it sees

  Boosom’d high in tufted Trees,

  Wher perhaps som beauty lies,

  80

  The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes.

  Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes,

  From betwixt two aged Oaks,

  Where Corydon and Thyrsis11 met

  Are at their savory dinner set

  85

  Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes,

  Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses;

  And then in haste her Bowr she leaves,

  With Thestylis to bind the Sheaves;

  Or if the earlier season lead

  90

  To the tann’d Haycock in the Mead,

  Som times with secure12 delight

  The up-land Hamlets will invite,

  When the merry Bells ring round,

  And the jocond rebecks sound

  95

  To many a youth, and many a maid,

  Dancing in the Chequer’d shade;

  And young and old com forth to play

  On a Sunshine Holyday,

  Till the live-long day-light fail,

  100

  Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,

  With stories told of many a feat,

  How Faery Mab the junkets eat;

  She13 was pincht, and pull’d she sed,

  And he by Friars Lanthorn14 led

  105

  Tells how the drudging Goblin swet,

  To earn his Cream-bowl duly set,

  When in one night, ere glimps of morn,

  His shadowy Flail hath thresh’d the Corn

  That ten day-labourers could not end,

  110

  Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend,

  And stretch’d out all the Chimney’s length,

  Basks at the fire his hairy strength;

  And Crop-full out of dores he flings,

  Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.

  115

  Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,

  By whispering Winds soon lull’d asleep.

  Towred Cities please us then,

  And the busie humm of men,

  Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,

  120

  In weeds of Peace high triumphs15 hold,

  With store of Ladies, whose bright eies

  Rain influence, and judge the prise

  Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend

  To win her Grace, whom all commend.

  125

  There let Hymen16 oft appear

  In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,

  And pomp, and feast, and revelry,

  With mask, and antique Pageantry,

  Such sights as youthfull Poets dream

  130

  On Summer eeves by haunted stream.

  Then to the well-trod stage anon,

  If Jonsons learned Sock17 be on,

  Or sweetest Shakespear fancies18 child,

  Warble his native Wood-notes wild,

  135

  And ever against eating Cares,

  Lap me in soft Lydian Aires,

  Married to immortal verse

  Such as the meeting soul may pierce

  In notes, with many a winding bout

  140

  Of linked sweetnes long drawn out,

  With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,

  The melting voice through mazes running;

  Untwisting all the chains that tie

  The hidden soul of harmony.

  145

  That Orpheus19 self may heave his head

  From golden slumber on a bed

  Of heapt Elysian flowrs, and hear

  Such streins as would have won the ear

  Of Pluto, to have quite set free

  150

  His half-regain’d Eurydice.

  These delights, if thou canst give,

  Mirth with thee I mean to live.20

  (1631 ?)

  * * *

  1 “The joyful man” delights in the pleasures of day and light, and in those happy activities of night which are enjoyed with others. Its companion and structurally parallel poem, Il Penseroso, “the contemplative man,” presents images of pensiveness and darkness, and thus of alo
neness and primarily night. Notable is the strong Platonic element.

  The contrasting first ten lines of each poem have been traced to a number of literary sources for metrics and subject matter. The antithetic subjects of the twin poems were probably conceived as a kind of scholastic exercise such as produced the first and seventh prolusions, “Whether Day or Night Is the More Excellent” and “Learning Makes Men Happier than Ignorance.”

  2 the watchdog of Hades; “Stygian,” l. 3, refers to one of the rivers flowing through Hell.

  3 unfamiliar.

  4 called. The sister Graces (l. 15) are Aglaia (Brilliance) and Thalia (Bloom).

  5 probably meaning “some who are Sager.”

  6 goddess of youth.

  7 light gray (at dawn).

  8 out in the open.

  9 stately progress.

  10 spotted.

  11 commonplace rustic names as are “Phillis” (l. 86) and “Thestylis” (l. 88).

  12 free from care.

  13 one of the tellers of tales, as is “he,” l. 104.

  14 ignis fatuus, a misleading light; probably the Friar is identical with the “Goblin,” l. 105, and “Lubbar Fend,” l. 110 (Robin Goodfellow).

  15 festivals.

  16 god of marriage, a frequent character in court masques.

  17 low-heeled slippers worn by actors in comedy; hence, when one of Jonson’s comedies is being played.

  18 imagination’s.

  19 Orpheus sought to recover his wife Eurydice from Pluto’s realm of death; his wondrous music gained his wish for him on the condition that he not look back as she followed. But he failed as they neared the upper world and Eurydice vanished.

  20 Compare Marlowe’s: “If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love.”

  Il Penseroso

  Hence vain deluding joyes,

  The brood of folly without father bred,

  How little you bested,

  Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes;

  5

  Dwell in som idle brain,

  And fancies fond1 with gaudy shapes possess,

  As thick and numberless

  As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,

  Or likest hovering dreams

  10

  The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.2

  But hail thou Goddes, sage and holy,

  Hail divinest Melancholy,

  Whose Saintly visage is too bright

  To hit the Sense of human sight;

  15

  And therfore to our weaker view,

  O’re laid with black staid Wisdoms hue.

  Black, but such as in esteem,

  Prince Memnons3 sister might beseem,

  Or that Starr’d Ethiope Queen4 that strove

  20

  To set her beauties praise above

  The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.

  Yet thou art higher far descended,

  Thee bright-hair’d Vesta5 long of yore,

  To solitary Saturn bore;

  25

  His daughter she (in Saturns raign,

  Such mixture was not held a stain)

  Oft in glimmering Bowrs, and glades

  He met her, and in secret shades

  Of woody Ida’s inmost grove,

  30

  While yet there was no fear of Jove.6

  Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,

  Sober, stedfast, and demure,

  All in a robe of darkest grain,

  Flowing with majestick train,

  35

  And sable stole of Cipres Lawn,7

  Over thy decent shoulders drawn.

  Com, but keep thy wonted state,

  With eev’n step, and musing gate,

  And looks commercing with the skies,

  40

  Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:

  There held in holy passion still,

  Forget thy self to Marble, till

  With a sad8 Leaden downward cast,

  Thou fix them on the earth as fast.

  45

  And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,

  Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,

  And hears the Muses in a ring,

  Ay round about Joves Altar sing.

  And add to these retired leasure,

  50

  That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure;

  But first, and chiefest, with thee bring

  Him that yon soars on golden wing,

  Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,9

  The Cherub Contemplation,10

  55

  And the mute Silence hist along,

  ’Less Philomel11 will daign a Song,

  In her sweetest, saddest plight,

  Smoothing the rugged brow of night,

  While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,12

  60

  Gently o’re th’ accustom’d Oak;

  Sweet Bird that shunn’st the noise of folly,

  Most musicall, most melancholy!

  Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among,

  I woo to hear thy eeven Song;

  65

  And missing thee, I walk unseen

  On the dry smooth-shaven Green,

  To behold the wandring Moon,

  Riding neer her highest noon,

  Like one that had bin led astray

  70

  Through the Heav’ns wide pathles way;

  And oft, as if her head she bow’d,

  Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

  Oft on a Plat of rising ground,

  I hear the far-off Curfew sound,

  75

  Over som wide-water’d shoar,

  Swinging slow with sullen roar;

  Or if the Ayr will not permit,

  Som still removed place will fit,

  Where glowing Embers through the room

  80

  Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,

  Far from all resort of mirth,

  Save the Cricket on the hearth,

  Or the Belmans13 drousie charm,

  To bless the dores from nightly harm:

  85

  Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,

  Be seen in som high lonely Towr,

  Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,14

  With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear

  The spirit of Plato to unfold

  90

  What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold

  Th’ immortal mind that hath forsook

  Her mansion in this fleshly nook:

  And of those Dæmons15 that are found

  In fire, air, flood, or under ground,

  95

  Whose power hath a true consent

  With Planet, or with Element.

  Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy

  In Scepter’d Pall com sweeping by,

  Presenting Thebes, or Pelops line,

  100

  Or the tale of Troy divine,16

  Or what (though rare) of later age,

  Ennobled hath the Buskind stage.

  But, O sad Virgin, that thy power

  Might raise Musæus17 from his bower,

  105

  Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing

  Such notes as warbled to the string,

  Drew Iron tears down Pluto’s cheek,

  And made Hell grant what Love did seek.18

  Or call up him19 that left half told

  110

  The story of Cambuscan bold,

  Of Camball, and of Algarsife,

  And who had Canace to wife,

  That own’d the vertuous Ring and Glass,

  And of the wondrous Hors of Brass,

  115

  On which the Tartar King did ride;

  And if ought els, great Bards beside,

  In sage and solemn tunes have sung,

  Of Turneys and of Trophies hung;

  Of Forests, and inchantments drear,

  120

  Where more is mea
nt then meets the ear.

  Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,20

  Till civil-suited21 Morn appeer,

  Not trickt and frounc’t as she was wont,

  With the Attick Boy22 to hunt,

  125

  But Cherchef’t in a comly Cloud,

  While rocking Winds are Piping loud,

  Or usher’d with a shower still,

  When the gust hath blown his fill,

  Ending on the russling Leaves,

  130

  With minute drops from off the Eaves.

  And when the Sun begins to fling

  His flaring beams, me Goddes bring

  To arched walks of twilight groves,

  And shadows brown that Sylvan23 loves

  135

  Of Pine, or monumental Oak,

  Where the rude Ax with heaved stroke,

  Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,

  Or fright them from their hallow’d haunt.

  There in close covert by som Brook,

  140

  Where no profaner eye may look,

  Hide me from Day’s garish eie,

  While the Bee with Honied thigh,

  That at her flowry work doth sing,

  And the Waters murmuring

  145

  With such consort24 as they keep,

  Entice the dewy-feather’d Sleep;

  And let som strange mysterious dream

  Wave at his Wings in Airy stream,

  Of lively protrature display’d,

  150

  Softly on my eye-lids laid.

  And as I wake, sweet musick breath

  Above, about, or underneath,

  Sent by som spirit to mortals good,

  Or th’ unseen Genius of the Wood.

  155

  But let my due feet never fail

  To walk the studious Cloysters pale,25

  And love the high embowed Roof,

  With antick Pillars massy proof,26

  And storied Windows richly dight,

  160

  Casting a dimm religious light.

  There let the pealing Organ blow

  To the full voic’d Quire below,

  In Service high, and Anthems cleer,

 

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