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And, when they list, their lean and fashy songs with eager thought warbling his Doric lay ! Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, And now was dropt into the western bay: 191 But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they at last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue: draw,

| To morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing sed : But that two-handed engine at the door 130 ORIGINAL Various READINGS OF LYCIDAS, Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.” Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,

From Milton's MS, in his own hand. That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, and call the vales, and bid them hither cast | Ver. 10. Who would not sing for Lycidas, he Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues.

well knew.. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use | Ver. 22. To bid faire peace, &c. Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, | Ver. 26. Under the glimmering eye-lids, &c. On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks; Ver, 30. Oft till the even-starre bright Throw hither all your quaint enamell’d eyes,

Towards Heaven's descent had sloapt That on the green turf suck the honied showers,

bis burnisht wheel. And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. | Ver. 47. Or frost to flowres that their gay bulBring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 142

tons wear. The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,

Here bear had been written, and erased, before The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, wear. The glowing violet,

| Ver. 58. What could the golden-hayrd Calliope The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,

For her inchaunting son, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,

When she beheld (the gods far-sighted And every flower that sad embroidery wears:

bee) Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,

His goarie scalpe roule downe the ThraAnd daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150

cian lee. To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies. Here, after inchaunting son, occurs in the For, so to interpose a little ease,

margin Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise ;

Whome universal Nature might lament, Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas

And Heaven and Hel deplore, Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd,

When his divine head downe the streame Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,

was sent. Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, The line And Heaven, &c. is erased : dirine Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ;

head is also altered to divine visuge, and afOr whether thou, to our moist vows denied,

terwards to goary visage. Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160 | Ver. 69. Hid in the tangles, &c. Where the great vision of the guarded mount Ver. 85. Oh fountain Arethuse, and, thou smooth Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold;

flood, Look horneward, angel, now, and melt with ruth:

Soft-sliding Mincius. And, Oye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

Smooth is then altered to fam'd, and next to hoWeep no more, woful shepherds, weep no nourd: And soft-sliding to smooth-sliding. For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, [more, Ver. 105. Scraul'd ore with figures dim. Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;

Inwrought is in the margin. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,

Ver. 129. Daily devours apace, and little scd. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 169 | Nothing is erased. And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Ver. 138. On whose fresh lap the swart star stiniFiames in the forehead of the morning sky:

ly looks. So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,

At first spurely, as at present. Through the dear might of him that walk'd the | Ver. 139. Bring hither, &c. waves;

Ver. 142. Bring the rathe primrose that unuedWhere, other groves and other streams along,

ded dies, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,

Colouring the pale cheek of unin joy'd loce; And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,

And thut sad floure that strove In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.

To write his own woes on the vermeil There entertain him all the saints above,

graine : In solemn troops, and sweet societies,

Next, adde Narcissus t' at still weeps in That sing, and, singing in their glory, move,

vaine; And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.

The woodbine, and the pancie freak't Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; 180

with jet, Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,

The glowing violet, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good

The couslip wan that hangs his pensive To all that wander in that perilous flood.

head, Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and

And every bud that sorros's liverie weares; rills,

Let daffadillies fill their cupswith leares, While the still Morn went out with sandals gray;

Bid amaranthus all his beautie shed. He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, Here also the well-attir'd woodbine appears as aj present, altered from garish columbine ; and sud | Oft listening how the bounds and horn . embroidery, an alteration of sad escocheon, in Cheerly rouse the slumbering Morn, stead of sorrow's liverie.

From the side of some hoar hill, Ver. 153. Let our sad thought, &c.

Through the high wood echoing shrill : Ver. 154. Ay mee, whilst thee the floods and Some time walking, not unseen, sounding seas.

By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Ver. 160. Sleep'st by the fable of Corineus old. Right against the eastern-gate
But Bellerus is a correction.'

Where the great Sun begins his state, Ver. 176. Listening the unexpressive puptial Rob'd in flames, and amber light, song

The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,

And the milkmaid singeth blithe,

And the mower whets his sithe,
And every shepherd tells his tale

Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Hence, loathed Melancholy,

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, Whilst the landscape round it measures; In Stygian cave forlorn,

Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights Where the nibbling flocks do stray; unholy!

Mountains, on whose barren breast, Find out some uncouth cell,

The labouring clouds do often rest; Where brooding Darkness sads his jealous Meadows trim with daisies pide, wings,

Shallow brooks, and rivers wide : And the night-raven sings ;

Towers and battlements it sees There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd Bosom'd high in tufted trees, As ragged as thy locks,

[rocks, Where perhaps some beauty lies, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.

The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. But come, thou goddess fair and free,

Hard by, a cottage chimney smoaks, In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,

From betwixt two aged oaks, And by men, heart-easing Mirth;

Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met, Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,

Are at their savoury dinner set With two sister Graces more,

Cf herbs, and other country messes, To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:

Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses ; Or whether (as some sager sing)

And then in haste her bower she leaves, The frolic wind, that breathes the spring, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; Zephyr, with Aurora playing,

Or, if the earlier season lead, As he met her once a-maying ;

To the tann'd haycock in the mead.. There on beds of violets blue,

Sometimes with secure delight And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,

The upland hamlets will invite, Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,

When the merry bells ring round,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

And the jocund rebecks sound
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee To many a youth, and many a maid,"
Jest, and youthful Jollity,

Dancing in the chequer'd shade;
Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,

And young and old come forth to play Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,

On a sun-shine holy-day, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,

Till the live-long day-light fail : And love to live in dimple sleek ;

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, Sport that wrinkled Care derides,

With stories told of many a feat, And Laughter holding both his sides.

How faery Mab the junkets eat; Come, and trip it, as you go,

She was pinch'd, and pulld, she sed; On the light fantastic toe;

And he, by friars lantern led, And in thy right hand lead with thee

Tells how the drudging goblin swet, The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;

To earn bis creain-bowl duly set, And, if I give thee honour due,

When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, Mirth, admit me of thy crew,

His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn, To live with her, and live with thee,

That ten day-labourers could not end ; In unreproved pleasures free;

Then lies him down the lubbar fiend, To hear the lark begin his flight,

And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, And singing startle the dull Night,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength; From his watch-tower in the skies,

And crop-full out of doors he fings, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;

Ere the first cock his matin rings. Then to come, in spite of sorrow,

Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, And at my window bid good morrow,

By whispering wings soon lulld asleep. Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,

Tower'd cities please us then, Or the twisted eglantine :

And the busy hum of men, While the cock, with lively din,

Where throngs of knights and barons bold, Scatters the rear of Darkness thin.

In weeds of peace, high triumphs bold, And to the stack, or the barn-door,

With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Stoutly struts his dames before :

Rain influence, and judge the prize

Of wit, or arms, while both contend

And sable stole of Cyprus lawn, To win her grace, whom all commend.

Over thy decent shoulders drawn. There let Hymen oft appear

Come, but keep thy wonted state, lu saffron robe, with taper clear,

With even step, and musing gait; And pomp, and feast, and revelry,

And looks commércing with the skies, With mask, and antique pageantry;

Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: Such sights as youthful poets dream

There, held in holy passion still, On summer eves by haunted stream.

Forget thyself to marble, till Then to the well-trod stage anon,

With a sad leaden downward cast If Jonson's learned sock be on,

Thou fix them on the earth as fast: Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,

And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Warble his native wood-notes wild.

Spare Fast, tbat oft with gods doth diet, And ever, against eating cares,

And hears the Muses in a ring Lap me in soft Lydian airs,

Aye round about Jove's altar sing: Married to immortal verse;

And add to these retired Leisure, Such as the meeting soul may pierce,

That in trim gardens takes his pleasure: lu notes, with many a winding bout

But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, Of linked sweetness long drawn out,

Him that yon soars on golden wing, With wanton heed and giddy cunning;

Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The melting voice through mazes running,

The cherub Contemplation; Untwisting all the chains that tie

And the mute Silence hist along, The hidden soul of harmony;

'Less Philomel will deign a song, That Orpheus' self may heave his head

In her sweetest saddest pligbt, From golden slumber on a bed

Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, Of heap'd Elysian flowers, and hear

While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, Such strains as would have won the ear

Gently o'er the accustom'd oak: Of Pluto, to have quite set free

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, His half-regain'd Eurydice.

Most musical, most melancholy ! These delights if thou canst give,

Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, Mirth, with thee I mean to live.

I woo, to hear thy even-song;
| And, missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-sharen green,
To behold the wandering Moon,

Riding near her highest noon,

Like one that had been led astray

Through the Heaven's wide pathless way; Hence, vain deluding Joys,

And oft, as if her head she bow'd, The brood of Folly without father bred !

Stooping through a fleecy cloud. How little you bested,

Oft, on a plat of rising ground, Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys!

I hear the far-off Curfeu sound, Dwell in some idle brain,

Over some wide-water'd shore, And fancies fund with gaudy shapes possess, Swinging slow with sullen roar: As thick and numberless

Or, if the air will not permit, As the gay motes that people the sun-beams;

Some still removed place will fit, Or likest hovering dreams,

Where glowing embers through therooms The fickle, pensioners of Morpheus' train.

Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; But hail, thou goddess, sage and holy,

Far from all resort of mirth, Hail, divinest Melancholy!

Save the cricket on the hearth, Whose sainuly visage is too bright

Or the belman's drowsy charm, To hit ihe sense of human sight,

To bless the doors from nightly harm. And therefore to our weaker view

Or let my lamp at midnight hour, O’erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue;

Be seen in some high lonely tower, Black, but such as jir esteem

Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, Prince Mempon's sister might beseem,

With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove

The spirit of Plato, to unfold To set her beauty's praise above

What worlds or what vast regions hold The sea-pymphs, and their powers offended : The immortal mind, that hath forsook Yet thou art higher far descended:

Her mansion in this fieshly nook : Thee bright-hair'd Vesta, long of yore,

And of those demons that are found To solitary Saturn bore;

In fire, air, flood, or under ground, His daughter she; in Saturn's reign,

Whose power hath a true consent Such mixture was not held a stain: .

With planet, or with element, Oft in glimmering bowers and glades

Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy He met ber, and in secret shades

In scepter'd pall come sweeping by, Of woody Ida's inmost grore,

Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove.

Or the tale of Troy divine; Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure,

Or what (though rare) of later age Sober, stedfast, and demure,

Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. All in a robe of darkest grain,

But, O sad virgin, that thy power Flowing with majestic train,

| Might raise Musæus from his bower!

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Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing

These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
Such notes, as, warbled to the string,

And I with thee will choose to live.
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made Hell grant what love did seek!
Or call up him that left half-told

The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,

And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass;

And of the wonderous horse of brass.

Entertainment presented to the countess
On which the Tartar king did ride:

Dowager of Derby at Harefield, by some
And if aught else great bards beside

noble persons of her family ; who appear on
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,

the scene in pastoral habit, moving toward
Of turneys, and of trophies hung,

the seat of state, with this song.
Of forests, and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.

(UNQUESTIONABLY this mask was a much longer
Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, performance. Milton seems only to have write
Till civil-suited Morn appear,

ten the poetical part, consisting of these Not trick'd and frounc'd as she was wont

three songs and the recitative soliloquy of the
With the Attic boy to hunt,

Genius. The rest was probably prose and ma-
But kercheft in a comely cloud,

chinery. In many of Jonsou's masques, the
While rocking winds are piping loud,

poet but rarely appears, amidst a cumbersome Or usher'd with a shower still,

exhibition of heathen gods and mythology.
When the gust hath blown his fill,

Alice, countess dowager of Derby, married
Ending on the russling leaves,

Ferdinando lord Strange; who on the death of
With minute drops from off the eaves.

his father Henry, in 1594, became earl of Derby,
And, when the Sun begins to fling

but died the next year. She was the sixth daughHis flaring beams, me, goddess, bring

ter of sir John Spenser of Althorpe in NorthampTo arched walks of twilight groves,

tonshire. She was afterwards married (in 1600) And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,

to lord chancellor Egerton, who died in 1617.
Of pine, or monumental oak,

She died Jan. 26, 1635-6, and was buried at
Where ihe rude axe, with heaved stroke,

Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.

There in close covert by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,

Look, nymphs, and shepherds, look,
Hide me from day's garish eye,

What sudden blaze of majesty,
While the bee with honied thigh,

Is that which we from hence descry,
That at her flowery work doth sing,

Too divine to be mistook :
And the waters murmuring,

This, this is she
With such consort as they keep,

To whom our vows and wishes bend :
Entice the dewy feather'd Sleep;

Here our solemn search hath end.
And let some strange mysterious dream

Pame, that, her high worth to raise,
Wave at his wings in aery stream

Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse,
Of lively portraiture display'd,

We may justly now accuse
Softly on my eye-lids laid.

Of detraction from her praise ;
And, as I wake, sweet music breathe

Less than half we find exprest,
Above, about, or underneath,

Envy bid conceal the rest.
Sent by some spirit to mortal good,
Or the unseen genius of the wood.

Mark, what radiant state she spreads,
But let my due feet never fail

In circle round her shining throne,
To walk the studious cloysters pale,

Shooting her beams like silver threads ;
And love the high-embowed roof,

This, this is she alone,
With antic pillars massy proof,

Sitting like a goddess bright,
And storied windows richly dight,

In the centre of her light.
Casting a dim religious light:
There let the pealing organ blow,

Might she the wise Latona be,
To the full-voic'd quire below,

Or the tower'd Cybele
In service high and anthems clear,

Mother of a hundred gods)
As may with sweetiess, through mine ear,

Juno dares not give her odds :
Dissolve me into ecstasies,

Who had thought this clime had held
And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.

A deity so unparallelld?
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,

As thoy come forward the Genius of the wood ap-
The hairy gown and mossy cell,

pears, and turning towards them speaks.
Where I may sit and rightly spell

Of every star that Heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew;

Stay, gentle swains ; for, though in this
Till old experience do attain

To something like prophetic strain.

I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes ;


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of famous Arcardy ye are, and sprung,

Follow me; Of that renowned food, so often sung,

I will bring you where she sits; Divine Alphéus, who by secret sluce

30 Clad in splendour as befits Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse;

Her deity.
And ye, the breathing roses of the wood,

Such a rural queen
Fair silver-buskin'd nymphs, as great and good; All Arcadia hath not seen.
I know, this quest of yours, and free intent,
Was all in honour and devotion meant

To the great mistress of yon princely shrine,
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine;

| Nymphs and shepherds, dance no more And, with all helpful service, will comply

| By sandy Ladon's lilied banks ; To further this night's glad solemnity;

On old Lycæus, or Cyllene hoar, And lead ye, where ye may more near behold 40

| Trip no more in twilight ranks;


Though Erymanth your loss deplore,
What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold ; 1
Which I full oft, amidst these shades alone,

A better soil shall give ye thanks.
Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon:

From the stony Mænalus

Bring your flocks, and live with us;
For know, by lot from Jove I am the power
Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower,

Here ye shall have greater grace,
To nurse the sapplings tall, and curl the grove

To serve the lady of this place. With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.

Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,

Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
And all my plants I save from nightly ill

Such a rural queen
Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill:
And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, 50

All Arcadia hath not seen.
And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue,
Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites,
Or burtful worm with canker'd venom bites.

When Evening grey doth rise, I fetch my round
Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground;

From Milton's MS, in his own hand.
And early, ere the odorous breath of Morn
Awakes the slumbering leares, or tassel'd horn

Ver. 10. Now seems guiltie of abuse
Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about,

And detraction from her praise, Number my ranks, and visit every sprout

Lesse than halfe she hath exprest: With puissant words, and murmurs made to

Envie bid her hide the rest. bless.

Here her hide is erased, and conceale written overit. But else in deep of night, when drowsiness 61 | Ver. 18. Seated like a goddess bright. Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I

But sealed is also expunged, and sitting supplied. To the celestial Syrens' harmony,

Ver. 23. Ceres dares not give her odds: That sit upon the nine infolded spheres,

Who would have thought, &c. And sing to those that hold the vital shears,

Both these readings are erased, and Juno and And turn the adamantine spindle round,

had, as the printed copies now read, are written On which the fate of gods and men is wound. over them. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie,

Ver. 41. Those virtues which dull Fame, &c. To lull the daughters of Necessity,

This likewise is expunged, and What shallow is. And keep unsteady Nature to her law, 70 l substituted. And the low world in measur'd motion draw

Ver. 44. For know, by lot from Jore I kore After the heavenly tune, which none can hear, the power. Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear; Here again the pen is drawn through hare, and And yet such music worthiest were to blaze am is written over it. The peerless height of her immortal praise,

Ver. 47. In ringlets quaint. Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, But With is placed over In expunged. If my inferior hand or voice could hit .

Ver. 49. Of noisome winds, or blasting raInimitable sounds : yet, as we go,

pours chill. Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can show,

Ver. 50. And from the leaves brush off, &c. I will assay, her worth to celebrate,

80 So it was at first. But the pen is drawn through And so attend ye toward her glittering state; leaves, and bowės supplied. Where ye may all, that are of noble stem,

Ver. 52. Or what the crosse, &c. Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. It was at first And, as in the printed copies;

but that is erased, and Or substituted.

Ver. 59. And number all my ranks, and II, SONG.

every sprout.

Here And and all are expunged with the pen, O'er the smooth enamellid green

and visil, as in the printed copies, completes the Where no print of step hath been,

Follow me, as I sing

Ver. 62. Hath chain'd mortalilie.
And touch the warbled string,

This also is erased, and lockt up mortal sense writa Under the shady roof

ten over it. Of branching elm star-proof.

Ver. 81. And so attend you toward &c.
Ver 9. I will bring ye where she sits:

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