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This elegy was not inferted in the first edition of the author's poems, printed in 1645, but was added in the second edition printed in 1673. It was compos'd in the year 1625, that being the 17th year of Milton's age. In fome editions the title runs thus, On the death of a fair Infant, a nephew of bis, dying of a cough: but the fequel fhows plainly that the child was not a nephew, but a niece, and confequently a daughter of his fifter Philips, and probably her first child.

111.

So mounting up in icy pearled car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far:
There ended was his queft, there ceas'd his care
Down he defcended from his fnow-foft chait,

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But all unwares with his cold kind embrace 20] Unhous'd thy virgin-foul from her fair biding-pla

IV.

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand, Whiloine did flay his dearly-loved mate, Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand, Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;

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But then transform'd him to a purple flower: Alack that fo to change thee Winter had to power.

V.

Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
Or that thy corfe corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;
Could Heav'n for pity thee fo ftrictly doom?

Above mortality, that show'st thou waft divine. 25
Oh no! for fomething in thy face did thine

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Driving dumb filence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely fat two years before:
Here I falute thee, and thy pardon ask,
That now I ufe thee in my latter task:
Small lofs it is that thence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee: 10
Thou need'ft not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither packt the worst:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,
The daintieft difhes fhall be ferv'd up laft.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid
For this fame fmail neglect that I have made :
But hafte thee ftrait to do me once a pleasure,
And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefeft trea-
fure,

15

20

25

Not thofe new fangled toys, and trimming flight,
Which takes our late fantaftics with delight,
But cull thofe richest robes, and gay'st attire
Which deepest fpirits and choiceft wits defire:
I have fome naked thoughts that rove about,
And loudly knock to have their paffage out;
And weary of their place do only stay
Till thou haft deck'd them in thy best array;
That fo they may without fufpect or fears
Fly fwiftly to this fair affembly's ears;
Yet I had rather, if I were to chufe,
Thy fervice in fome graver fubject use,
Such as may make thee fearch thy coffers round,
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit found:
Such where the deep tranfported mind may foar
Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'n's door
Look in, and fee each blifsful Deity

30

35 How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, Listening to what unfhorn Apollo fings

To th' touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings Immortal ncclar to her kingly fire:

41

Then paffing through the spheres of watchful fire,
And mifty regions of wide air next under
And hills of inow and lofts of piled thunder,
May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves,
In Heav'n's defiance mustering all his waves;
Then fing of fecret things that came to pass 45
When beldam Nature in her cradle was;
And laft of kings and queens and heroes old,
Such as the wife Demodocus once told
In folemn fongs at king Alcinoüs' feast,
While fad Ulyffes' foul and all the reft
Are held with his melodious harmony
In willing chains and fweet captivity.
But fie, my wandering Mufe, how thou doft ftray!
Expectance calls thee now another way,
Thou know't it must be now thy only bent
To keep in compafs of thy predicament:
Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,
That to the next I may refign my room.

50

55

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75

Yet there is fomething that doth force my fear,
For once it was my difmal hap to hear
A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age,
That far events full wifely could prefage,
And in time's long and dark profpective glafs
Forefaw what future days should bring to pafs;
Your fon, faid fhe, (nor can you it prevent)
Shall fubje&t be to many an Accident.
O'er all his brethren he fhall reign as king,
Yet every one shall make him underling,
And thofe that cannot live from him afunder
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under,
In worth and excellence he fhall out-go them,
Yet, being above them, he shall be below them;
From others he shall stand in need of nothing, 81
Yet on his brothers fhall depend for clothing.
To find a foe it fhall not be his hap,
And peace fhall lull him in her flowery lap;
Yet fhall he live in ftrife, and at his door
Devouring war shall never cease to roar :
Yea it fhall be his natural property
'To harbour thofe that are at enmity.
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Your learned hands can loose this Gordian knot?
The next Quantity and Quality Spake in Profe, then
Relation was call'd by his Name.

85

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Say heav'nly Mufe, fhall not thy facred vein Is
Afford a prefent to the Infant God?
Haft thou no verfe, no hymn, or folemn strain,
To welcome him to this his new abode,
Now while the Heav'n by the fun's team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approaching light, 20
And all the fpangled hoft keep watch in squadron.
bright?

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But he her fears to cease,
Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace;

She, crown'd with olive green, came foll
fliding

Down through the turning sphere
His ready harbinger,

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing. And waving wide her myrtle wand,

51

She strikes an univerfal peace through fea and land

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Apollo from his shrine

Can no more divine,

His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals' ring

They call the grifly king,

In difmal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish Gods of Nile as fast,

Ifis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.

Nor is Ofiris feen

XXIV.

In Memphian grove or green,

205

210

Trampling the unfhower'd grafs with lowings

loud:

Nor can he be at reft

Within his facred chest,

215

Nought but profoundeft Hell can be his shroud; In vain with timbrel'd anthems dark

The fable-ftoled forcerers bear his worshipt ark.

XXV.

He feels from Juda's land
The dreaded Infant's hand,

The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Nor all the Gods beside

With hollow fhrick the steep of Delphos leav- Longer dare abide,

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225

Not Typhon huge ending in fnaky twine: Our babe, to fhew his Godhead true, Can in his fwadling-bands controll the damned

crew.

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