Complete Poetry and Selected Prose of John Milton

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Complete Poetry and Selected Prose of John Milton Page 9

by John Milton


  45

  Læta suas repetit sylvas, pharetramque resumit

  Cynthia,8 Luciferas ut videt alta rotas,

  Et tenues ponens radios gaudere viderur

  Officium fieri tam breve fratris ope.

  Desere, Phœbus ait, thalamos, Aurora, seniles,

  50

  Quid juvat effœto procubuisse toro?9

  Te manet Æolides10 viridi venator in herba,

  Surge, tuos ignes altus Hymettus11 habet.

  Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur,

  Et matutinos ocyus urget equos.

  55

  Exuit invisam Tellus rediviva senectam,

  Et cupit amplexus, Phœbe, subire tuos;

  Et cupit, et digna est, quid enim formosius illâ,

  Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus,

  Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto

  60

  Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis?

  Ecce coronatur sacro frons ardua luco,

  Cingit ut Idæam pinea turris Opim;12

  Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos,

  Floribus et visa est posse placere suis.

  65

  Floribus effusos ut erat redimita capillos

  Tænario placuit diva Sicana Deo.13

  Aspice, Phœbe, tibi faciles hortantur amores,

  Mellitasque movent flamina verna preces.

  Cinnameâ Zephyrus leve plaudit odorifer alâ,

  70

  Blanditiasque tibi ferre videntur aves.

  Nec sine dote tuos temeraria quærit amores

  Terra, nec optatos poscit egena toros;

  Alma salutiferum medicos tibi gramen in usus

  Præbet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos.14

  75

  Quòd si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt

  Munera (muneribus sæpe coemptus Amor),

  Illa tibi ostentat quascunque sub æquore vasto,

  Et superinjectis montibus abdit opes.

  Ah quoties cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo

  80

  In vespertinas præcipitaris aquas,

  Cur te, inquit, cursu languentam, Phœbe, diurno

  Hesperiis recipit cærula mater aquis?

  Quid tibi cum Tethy?15 Quid cum Tartesside lymphâ?

  Dia quid immundo perluis ora salo?

  85

  Frigora, Phœbe, meâ melius captabis in umbrâ,

  Huc ades, ardentes imbue rore comas.

  Mollior egelidâ veniet tibi somnus in herbâ,

  Huc ades, et gremio lumina pone meo.

  Quáque jaces circum mulcebit lene susurrans

  90

  Aura per humentes corpora fusa rosas.

  Nec me (crede mihi) terrent Semelëia16 fata,

  Nec Phäetontéo fumidus axis equo;

  Cum tu, Phœbe, tuo sapientius uteris igni,

  Huc ades et gremio lumina pone meo.

  95

  Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores;

  Matris in exemplum cætera turba ruunt.

  Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido,

  Languentesque fovet solis ab igne faces.

  Insonuere novis lethalia cornua nervis,

  100

  Triste micant ferro tela corusca novo.

  Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam,

  Quæque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco.

  Ipsa senescentem reparat Venus annua formam,

  Atque iterum tepido creditur orta mari.

  105

  Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hymenæe per urbes,

  Littus io Hymen, et cava saxa sonant.

  Cultior ille venit tunicâque decentior aptâ,

  Puniceum redolet vestis odor a crocum.

  Egrediturque frequens ad amœni gaudia veris

  110

  Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus.

  Votum est cuique suum, votum est tamen omnibus unum,

  Ut sibi quem cupiat, det Cytherea virum.

  Nunc quoque septenâ modulatur arundine pastor,

  Et sua quæ jungat carmina Phyllis habet.

  115

  Navita nocturno placat sua sydera cantu,

  Delphinasque leves ad vada summa vocat.17

  Jupiter ipse alto cum conjuge ludit Olympo,

  Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos.

  Nunc etiam Satyri cum sera crepuscula surgunt,

  120

  Pervolitant celeri florea rura choro,

  Sylvanusque suâ Cyparissi fronde revinctus,

  Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper.

  Quæque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis

  Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros.

  125

  Per sata luxuriat fruticetaque Mænalius Pan,

  Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Ceres,

  Atque aliquam cupidus prædatur Oreada Faunus,

  Consulit in trepidos dum sibi Nympha pedes,

  Jamque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri,

  130

  Et fugit, et fugiens pervelit ipsa capi.

  Dii quoque non dubitant cælo præponere sylvas,

  Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus habet.

  Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto,

  Nec vos arboreâ, dii, precor ite domo.

  135

  Te referant miseris te, Jupiter, aurea terris

  Sæcla, quid ad nimbos aspera tela redis?

  Tu saltern lentè rapidos age, Phœbe, jugales

  Quà potes, et sensim tempora veris eant.

  Brumaque productas tardè ferat hispida noctes,

  140

  Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo.

  Elegy 5

  ON THE COMING OF SPRING

  In his perpetual cycle Time, rolling back, / now recalls fresh zephyrs, with warming spring. / And the restored earth is covered with brief youth / and now the ground, free from frost, is becoming delightfully green. / Am I mistaken? or are powers returning to my songs, [5] / and is inspiration present in me by the favor of spring? / It is present by the favor of spring, and again begins to flourish from it / (who may suspect?) and even now demands some work for itself. / The cleft Castalian peak1 hovers before my eyes / and dreams transport Pyrene2 to me in the night. [10] / And my excited breast enflames me with its strange emotion, / and I am made delirious, and a divine sound agitates me from within. / Apollo himself appears—I see his locks entwined / with Daphne’s laurel—Apollo himself is descended.3 / Now my mind is snatched from me into the heights of the liquid sky, [15] / and through the wandering clouds I fly, free from my body. / And through shadows and through caves, the sanctuaries of the poets, / I am borne, and to me the secret temples of the gods are accessible. / My spirit observes all that is done on Olympus, / and the hidden infernal regions do not escape my eyes. [20] / What does my soul sing so sublimely from its full mouth? / What does this madness bring forth, what this sacred rage? / Spring which has furnished me inspiration shall be sung through it; / her returned gifts may have been profitable in this way. / Already, Philomela,4 you are beginning your modulations, hidden [25] / by the young leaves, while all the grove is still. / I in the city, you in the wood, let us both begin together / and together let each sing the coming of spring. / Ho! changes of spring have returned; let us celebrate the hours / of spring, and let the unfailing Muse take this task upon herself. [30] / Now the sun, fleeing the Ethiopians and the fields of Tithonus, / directs his golden reins toward Arctos’ lands.5 / Brief is the journey of night, brief is the delay of dark night; / that dreadful one lives in exile with her shadows. / And now Lycaonian Boötes,6 wearied, does not follow [35] / in his celestial wain over the course as before; / now even few stars keep their accustomed watch / about the courts of Jove throughout the entire sky. / For deceit and slaughter and violence retired with the night; / neither have the gods feared the wickedness of the giants.7 [40] / Perhaps some shepherd, reclining on the top of a cliff / while the dewy earth reddens with the first sunlight, / asserts, “Then, certainly on this n
ight were you deprived, / Apollo, of your love who would delay your swift steeds.” / Delighted, Cynthia8 returns to her forests, and resumes her quiver, [45] / when she sees on high the wheels of Lucifer, / and setting down her feeble beams she seems to be happy / that her task is made short by her brother’s power. / Abandon, Apollo says, your aged wedlock, Aurora; / What is pleasing in having lain stretched out on an impotent bed?9 [50] / Aeolides,10 the hunter, awaits you on the green lawn. / Arise; high Hymettus11 enjoys your fires. / With modest face the blushing goddess confesses her guilt, / and drives her morning horses more swiftly. / The reviving earth shakes off her hated old age [55] / and wishes to submit to your embraces, Apollo. / Not only does she wish them, but she is worthy of them; for what is / more beautiful than she, as, voluptuous, she bares her all-bearing breasts / and breathes the harvests of Arabia, and from her elegant mouth / pours gentle fragrances with Paphian roses? [60] / Behold, her lofty brow is crowned by a sacred wood / just as a piny tower encompasses Idaean Ops,12 / and she twines her dewy locks with various bloom / and with her flowers she is seen able to please, / just as the Sicilian goddess, wreathed round her flowing locks with flowers, [65] / was pleasing to the Taenarian god.13 / Look, Apollo, facile loves are calling you / and vernal winds blow honey-sweet pleas. / Odor-bearing Zephyrus gently claps his cinnamon-scented wings / and the birds seem to carry their flatteries to you. [70] / The thoughtless earth does not seek your loves without dowry, / nor does she beg desired marriage, as if in need; / bounteous, she offers you health-bearing grain for medical uses / and hence she herself supports your titles.14 / Because if money, if glittering gifts impress you [75] / (love is often bought with gifts), / she holds out to you whatever wealth conceals / under the broad sea and under the overthrown mountains. / Ah, how often when, wearied by steep Olympus, / you would sink into the western seas, [80] / does she say, Why should the blue mother receive you, / Apollo, fainting from your daily course into her Hesperian waters? / What have you to do with Tethys?15 with Tartessian streams? / Why do you bathe your divine face in the filthy brine? / You will entrap coolness much better in my shadow, Apollo. [85] / Come hither, moisten your glittering locks in the dew; / a gentler sleep will come to you in the chill grass. / Come hither and place your rays on my bosom; / wheresoever you lie about, a gently murmuring breeze will soothe / our bodies spread on humid roses. [90] / A destiny like Semele’s16 (believe me) does not frighten me, / nor the axle smoking from Phaeton’s horse. / When you, Apollo, use your fire more wisely, / come hither and place your rays on my bosom. / Thus wanton Earth breathes out her loves; [95] / her remaining throng rush to ruin by example of the mother. / For now wandering Cupid runs through all the world, / and sustains his dying torches by the flame of the sun. / The lethal horns of his bow resound with new strings, / the tremulous arrows glitter severely with new iron. [100] / And now he attempts to subdue even the invincible Diana, / whoever sits in the sacred hearth by the chaste Vesta. / Venus herself annually refreshes her aging form, / and is believed sprung anew from the warm sea. / Through the marble cities the youth cry aloud, Hymen; [105] / the shore and hollow rocks echo, Io, Hymen. / He appears more elegant and more becoming in proper dress; / his odorous attire diffuses the perfume of purple crocus. / And many a girl with her virgin breasts encircled with gold / comes forth to the inward joys of lovely spring. [110] / Each is her own vow; one vow of all is the same, / that Cytherea will give her the man whom she desires. / Now also the shepherd is making music on his sevenfold reed pipe / and Phyllis has songs which she joins to his. / The sailor calms his stars with nocturnal song [115] / and calls the swift dolphins to the surface of the shallows.17 / Jove sports himself on high Olympus with his spouse / and assembles the servile gods to his feast. / Now even the satyrs, when the evening shadows rise, / flit about through the flowery fields in a swift dance, [120] / and Sylvanus girded with his cypress foliage, / and the god half-goat and the goat half-god. / The Dryads who have lurked under the ancient trees / wander through the mountains and the lonely fields. / Maenalian Pan revels through the crops and the thickets; [125] / hardly mother Cybele, hardly Ceres is safe from him; / and lustful Faunus ravishes some Oread, / while the nymph reflects to herself on trembling feet. / And now she lies hidden, and lurking she wishes to be seen poorly concealed, / and she flees, and fleeing she may wish herself to be made captive. [130] / The gods also do not hesitate to prefer the woods to heaven, / and every grove possesses its own deities. / Long may every grove possess its own deities; / ye gods, I pray, do not go from your arboreal home! / May the golden age restore you, Jove, to a wretched world! [135] / Why do you come back with your cruel weapons in the clouds? / At least drive your swift team, Apollo, as leisurely / as you can, and may the time of spring pass slowly; / and may foul winter bring prolonged nights tardily, / and may shadow attack later within our heavens. [140]

  (spring 1629)

  * * *

  1 See El. 4, n. 10.

  2 a fountain at Corinth.

  3 Pursued by Apollo, Daphne was turned into a laurel at her own entreaty; thereafter, the leaves of the tree became a symbol of his patronage of poetry and music.

  4 the nightingale, whose song in spring portends success in love.

  6 the vernal equinox. Ethiopia was considered all Africa south of Egypt; Tithonus, loved by Aurora, the dawn, stands for the east; and Arctos, the double constellation of the Great and Lesser Bears, is the north.

  6 See Ely, n. 12. Lycaon, the son of Callisto (the Wain) and Jove, is the Lesser Bear.

  7 See Fair Infant, n. 8.

  8 the moon; Lucifer is the sun.

  9 Jove made her beloved Tithonus immortal but not eternally youthful.

  10 While hunting, Cephalus, also beloved by Aurora, unwittingly killed his jealous wife Procis.

  11 a mountain overlooking Athens.

  12 goddess of crops, identified with Earth and Cybele, the Great Mother, who was worshipped on Mt. Ida.

  13 See Vice-Chancellor, n. 16.

  14 Apollo was god of healing.

  15 consort of Oceanus and mother of rivers. Hesperia was the west, and Tartessus, a maritime city of Spain.

  16 Juno, in anger, persuaded her to entreat Jove to visit her, a mortal, as a god, for Juno knew that she would be consumed by his lightning.

  17 alluding to the myth of Arion.

  On the Morning of Christs Nativity1

  I

  This is the Month, and this the happy morn

  Wherin the Son of Heav’ns eternal King,

  Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother2 bom,

  Our great redemption from above did bring;

  5

  For so the holy sages once did sing,

  That he our deadly forfeit should release,

  And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

  II

  That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,

  And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,

  10

  Wherwith he wont at Heav’ns high Councel-Table,

  To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

  He laid aside;3 and here with us to be,

  Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day,

  And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.

  III

  15

  Say Heav’nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein

  Afford a present to the Infant God?

  Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,

  To welcom him to this his new abode,

  Now while the Heav’n by the Suns team untrod,

  20

  Hath took no print of the approaching light,

  And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

  IV

  See how from far upon the Eastern rode

  The Star-led Wisards4 haste with odours sweet:

  O run, prevent5 them with thy humble ode,

  25

  And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;

  Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,
<
br />   And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,

  From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow’d fire.6

  The Hymn

  I

  It was the Winter wild,

  30

  While the Heav’n-born-child,

  All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;

  Nature in aw to him

  Had doff’t her gawdy trim,

  With her great Master so to sympathize:

  35

  It was no season then for her

  To wanton with the Sun, her lusty Paramour.

  II

  Onely with speeches fair

  She woos the gentle Air

  To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,

  40

  And on her naked shame,

  Pollute7 with sinfull blame,

  The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,8

  Confounded, that her Makers eyes

  Should look so neer upon her foul deformities.

  III

  45

  But he her fears to cease,

  Sent down the meek-ey’d Peace;

  She crown’d with Olive green,9 came softly sliding

  Down through the turning sphear10

  His ready Harbinger,

  50

  With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing,

  And waving wide her mirtle wand,

  She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.

  IV

  No War, or Battails sound

  Was heard the World around:11

  55

  The idle spear and shield were high up hung;

  The hooked Chariot stood

  Unstain’d with hostile blood,

  The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,

  And Kings sate still with awfull eye,

  60

  As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

  V

 

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