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Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight | | Through the soft silence of the listening Night; Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human Now mour; and, if sad share with us to bear wight!

Your fiery essence can distil no tear,

Burn in your sighs, and borrow
He, sovran priest, stooping his regal head, Seas wept from our deep sorrow :
That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, He, who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere
Foor fleshy tabernacle entered,

Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease:
His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies : Alas, how soon our sin
0, what a mask was there, what a disguise:

Sore doth begin
Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, His infancy to seize!
Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethrens' O more exceeding love, or law more just ?

Just law indeed, but more exceeding love!

For we, by rightful doom rernediless,
These latest scenes confine my roving verse;

Were lost in death, till he, that dwelt above
To this horizon is my Phæbus bound:

High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust
His god-like acts, and his temptations fierce,

Emptied his glory, even to nakedness;
And former sufferings, other where are found;

And that great covenant which we still transgress
Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound ; | Entirely satisfied :
Me softer airs befit, and softer strings

| And the full wrath beside
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful

Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; things.

And seals obedience first, with wounding smart,

This day; but 0, ere long,
Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief;

Huge pangs and strong
Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw,

Will pierce more near his heart,
And work my flatter'd fancy to belief,
That Heaven and Earth are colour'd with my woe;
My sorrows are too dark for day to know :
The leaves should all be black whereon I write,

And letters, where my tears have wash'd, a wan-

nish white.

See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels,
That whirl'd the prophet up at Chebar flood; 10 Fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted,
My spirit some transporting cherub feels, Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,
To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted
Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry;

For he, being amorous on that lovely dye
There doth my soul in holy vision sit,

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to
In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic

kiss, fit.

But kill'd, alas! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.
Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock

For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer,
That was the casket of Heaven's richest store, By boisterous rape the Athenjan damsel got,
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock, He thought it touch'd his deity full near,
Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score

| If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
My plaining verse as lively as before;

Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot
For sure so well instructed are my tears,

Of Jong-uncoupled bed and childless eld,
That they would fitly fall in order'd characters. Which, 'mongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach
Or should I thence hurried on viewless wing

was held.
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild,

So, mounting up in icy-pearled car,
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring
Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild;

Through middle empire of the freezing air
And I (for grief is easily beguild)

He wander'd long, till thee he spied from far;
Might think the infection of my sorrows loud

There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care: Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant

Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,

Bot, all unwares, with his cold kind embrace cloud.

Unhous'd thy virgin soul from her fair hiding

place. This subject the author finding to be above the

years he had, when he wrote it, and nothing | Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; . satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished. For so Apollo, with unweeting hand,

Whilom did slay his dearly-loved mate,

Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand,

Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land;

But then transform'd him to a purple flower: . CÍRCUMCISION.

Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no
Ye Aaming powers, and winged warriors bright,

That erst with music, and triumphant song,
First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, 1 Written in 1625, and first inserted in edi.
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along |tion 1673. He was now seventeen. WARTON.

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Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, | For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,
Or that thy corse corrupts in Earth's dark woonb, And last of all thy greedy self consum'd,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb;

With an individual kiss;
Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom? And joy shall overtake us as a flood,

Oh no! for something in thy face did shine When every thing that is sincerely good
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. And perfectly divine,

With truth, and peace, and love, shall eyer shine Resolve me then, oh soul most surely blest,

About the supreme throne (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear ;)

Of bim, to whose happy-making sight alone, Tell me, bright spirit, where'er thou hoverest,

When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Whether above that high first-moving sphere,

Then, all this earthy grossness quit, Or in the Elysian Fields, (if such were there ;)

Attir'd with stars, we shall for ever sit, ' Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy

O Time.
Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall;

Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof

SOLEMN MUSIC. Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ? Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall (tled, Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy,

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some goddess | Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and verse, Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head?

Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd power employ Or wert thou that just maid, who once before

Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce ; Forsook the hated Earth, O tell me sooth,

And to our high-rais'd phantasy present And cam'st again to visit us once more?

That undisturbed song of pure consent, Or wert thou that sweet-smiling youth?

Aye sung before the saphire-colour'd throne Or that crown'd matruns,age white-robed Truth?

To him that sits thereon, Or any other of that heavenly brood

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some

Where the bright Seraphim, in burning row, 10

Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow; good:

And the cherubic host, in thousand quires, Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, | Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, Who, having clad thyself in human weed, | With those just spirits that wear victorious palms, To Earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, | Hymns devout and holy psalms And after short abode fly back with speed, Singing everlastingly: As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed; That we on Earth, with undiscording voice,

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire May rightly answer that melodious noise ; To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven As once we did, till disproportion'd Sin aspire?

Jarı'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din

Broke the fair music that all creatures made But oh! why didst thou not stay here below

To their great Lord, whose love their motion To bless us with thy heaven-lov'd innocence,

In perfect diapason, whilst they stood [sway'd To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe,

In first obedience, and their state of good. To turn swift-rushing black Perdition hence,

O, may we soon agaip renew that song, Or drive away the slaughtering Pestilence,

And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart ?

To his celestial consort us unite, But thou canst best perform that office where to live with him, and sing in endless morn of thou art.

Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child,
Her false-imagin'd loss cease to lament,

And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,

And render bim with patience what be lent;
This if thou do, he will an offspring give,

ON THE That, till the world's last end, shall make thy | MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER', pame to live.

This rich marble doth inter
The honour'd wife of Winchester,

A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir,

Besides what her virtues fair,
Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; She was the wife of John marquis of Win-
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours,

chester, a conspicuous loyalist in the reign of Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; | king Charles the first, whose magnificent house And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, or castle of Basing in Hampshire withstood an Which is no more than what is false and rain, obstinate siege of two years against the rebels, And merely mortal dross;

and when taken was levelled to the ground, be. So little is our loss,

cause in every window was tourished. Ayrat: So little is thy gain!

| Loya ute.

Added to her noble birth,

SONG More than she could own from earth.

Summers three times eight save one

She had told ; alas ! too soon,
After so short time of breath,

| Now the bright Morning-star, Day's harbinger, To house with darkness, and with death.

Comes dancing from the east, and leads with Yet had the number of her days

ber Been as complete as was her praise,

The flowery May, who from her green lap throws Nature and Fate had had no strife

The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. . ., In giving limit to her life.

llail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Her high birth, and her graces sweet,

Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Quickly found a lover meet;

Woods and groves are of thy dressing, The virgin quire for her request

Hill, and dale, doth boast thy blessing. The god that sits at marriage feast ;

Thus we salute thee with our early song,
He at their invoking came,

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
But with a scarce well-lighted flame;
And in his garland, as he stood,

| Original VARIOUS READINGS of the ODE ATA Ye might discern a cypress bud. Once had the early matrons run

SOLEMN Music. To greet her of a lovely son,

There are three draughts or copies of this song : And now with second hope she goes,

all in Milton's own hand-writing. There occur And calls Lucina to her throes;

some remarkable expressions in these various But, whether by mischance or blame,

readings which Doctor Newton and Mr. Warton Atropos for Lucina came;

have not noticed. And with remorseless cruelty

Ver. 3. Mire your choice words, and happiest Spoil'd at one both fruit and tree :

sounds employ, The hapless babe, before his birth,

Dead things with inbreath'd sense Had burial, yet not laid in earth ;

able to pierce; And the languish'd mother's womb

And as your equal raptures, temper'd Was not long a living tomb.

sueet, So have I seen some tender slip,

In high mysterious spousall meet; Sav'd with care from Winter's nip,

Snatch us from Earth awhile, The pride of her carnation train,

Us of ourselves and native woe beguile : Pluck'd up by some unheedy strain,

And to our high-rays'd phantasie preWho only thought to crop the flower

sent New shot up from vernal shower ;

That undisturbed song, &c. But the fair blossom hangs the head

| Here, in the first draught, it is “. And whilst your Side-ways, as on a dying bed,

egnal raptures;" in the second, whilst is erased, And those pearls of dew, she wears,

and as written over it. In the second draught Prove to be presaging tears,

also, the next line was Which the sad Morn had let fall

In high mysterious holiespousall meet; On her hastening funeral.

but holie is expunged, and happie supplied in the Gentle lady, may thy grave.

margin; and, in the last of these original lines, Peace and quiet ever have;

native woes” was originally home-bred After this thy travel sore

woes." Sweet rest seize thee evermore,

Ver. 10. Where the bright Seraphim in tripled That, to give the world increase,

row. • Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease,

Ver. 12. And Cherubim, sweet-winged squires, Here, beside the sorrowing

Then called Heaven's henshmen, which means That thy noble house doth bring,

the same ; henshman, or henchman, signifying a Here be tears of perfect moan

page of honour. See Minsheu, and also Mids. Wept for thee in Helicon ;

A. Dr. A. ii. S. ji. And some flowers, and some bays,

“I do but beg a little changeling boy For thy herse, to strew the ways,

To be my henchman.Sent thee from the banks of Came,

The Queen of Fairies is the speaker. Milton's Devoted to thy virtuous name;

curious expressions are in the first draught. Whilst thou, bright saint, high sitst in glory, Ver. 14. With those just spirits that wear the Next her, much like to thee in story,

blooming palms, That fair Syrian shepherdess,

Hymns devout and sacred psalmes Who, after years of barrenness,

Singing everlastingly; The highly farour'il Joseph bore

While all the starry rounds and arches To him that serv'd for her before,

blue And at her next birth, much like thee,

Resound and echo hallelu: Through pangs fled to felicity,

That we on Earth, &c. Far within the bosom bright

Ver. 18. May rightly answere that melodious. Of blazing Majesty and Light :

noise, There with thee, new welcome saint,

By leaving out those harsh ill sounding Like fortunes may her soul acquajut,

Jurres With thee there clad in radiant sheen,

of clumorous sin that all our music No marchioness, but now a queen.

ma:res :



And in our lives and in our song

And misty regions of wide air next under, May keepe in tune with Heaven, &c. And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, In the second dranght he describes ós the May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune harsh discords” of sin by a technical term in

raves, music :

In Heaven's defiance mustering all his wares; By leaving out these harsh CHROMATIC Then sing of secret things that came to pass

When beldam Nature in her cradle was; Of sin that all our music marres : And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old, Ver. 19. As once we could, &c.

Such as the wise Demodocus once told Ver. 28. To live and sing with him in endlesse | In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast, motne of light.

While sad Ulysses' soal, and all the rest,
Are held, with his melodious harmony,

In willing chains and sweet captivity.

But fie, my wandering Muse,how thou dost stray!
Expectance calls thee now another way;
Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent

To keep in compass of thy predicament :

Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,

That to the next I may resign my room.
Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended,

| Then Ens is represented as father of the Predica. the English thus began.'

ments his two sons, whereof the eldest stood for Hail, native Language, that by sinews weak

Substance with his canons, which Ens, thus speakDidst move my first endeavouring tongue to

ing, explains. speak,

Good luck befriend thee, son; for, at thy birth, And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips,

The faery ladies danc'd upon the hearth; Half unpronounc'd, slide through my infant

Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spie Driving dumb Silence from the portal door,

Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie,

And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, Where he had mutely sat two years before :

Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head, Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,

She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldss That now I use thee in my latter task :

still Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,

From eyes of mortals walk invisible : I know my.tongue but little grace can do thee : Yet there is something that doth force my fear; Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first,

For once it was my dismal hap to bear Believe me I have thither pack'd the worst :

A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, And, if it happen as I did forecast,

That far events full wisely could presage, The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last. And in Time's long and dark prospective glass, I pray thee then deny me not thy aid

Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; For this same small neglect that I have made :

“ Your son,” said she," nor can you it prevent) But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, Shall subject be to many an Accident. And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest trea- O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, sure,

Yet every one shall make him underling; Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight

And those, that cannot live from him asunder, Which takes our late fantastics with delight;

| Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under; But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire, In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire:

Yet, being above them, he shall be belos I have some naked thoughts that rove about,

them; And loudly knock to have their passage out; From others he shall stand in need of nothing, And, weary of their place, do only stay,

Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ;

To find a foe it shall not be his hap, That so they may, without suspect or fears,

And Peace shall lull him in her flowery lap; Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears;

Yet shall he live in strife, and at bis door Yet I had rather, if I were to chuse,

Devouring War shall never cease to roar; Thy service in some graver subject use,

| Yea, it shall be his natural property Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, To harbour those that are at enmity. (not Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound :

What power, what force, what mighty spell, if Such, where the deep transported mind may Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian soar

knot ?” Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door Look in, and see each blissful deity

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose; How be before the thunderous throne doth lie,

then Relation was called by his name, Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings | Rivers, arise ; whether thou be the son Immortal nectar to her kingly sire :

Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphy Den, Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, Or Trent, who like some Earth-born giant,

spreads "Written 1627. It is hard to say why they did | His thirty arms along the indented meads; pot first appear in edition 1645. They were first Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath; added, but inisplaced in edit. 1073. WARTON, | Or Severo swift, guilty of maid en's death;

Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,

So bung his destiny, never to rot Or coaly 'Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee; . While he might still jog on and keep his trot, Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name; Made of sphere-metal, never to decay Or Medway smooth, or royal-towerd Thame. | Until his revolution was at stay.

Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime [The rest was prose. ]

'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time:

And, like an engine, mov'd with wheel and weight AN EPITAPH

His principles being ceas'd, he ended straight,

Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death, ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC POET W.SuaksPEARE.

And too much breathing put him out of breath ;

Nor were it contradiction to affirm, What needs my Shakspeare, for his honour'd

Too long vacation hasten'd on his term. The labour of an age in piled stones ? [bones, Merely to drive the time away he sicken'd, Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid

Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quickUnder a star-ypointing pyramid ?


(stretch'd, Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,

| “Nay," quoth he, on his swooning bed outWhat need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?

“ If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd, Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,

But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearHast built thyself a live-long monument.

ers, For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art,

For one carrier put down to make six bearers." Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart

Ease was his chief disease ; and, to judge right, Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book,

He died for heaviness that his cart went light : Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ;

His leisure told him that his time was come, Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,

And lack of load made his life burdensome, · Dost make us marble with too much conceiving;

That even to his last breath, (there be that say't) And, so sepulcher'd, in such pomp dost lie,

As he were press'd to death, he cried, “More That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.


But, had his doings lasted as they were,

He had been an immortal carrier.

Obedient to the Moon he spent his date

In course reciprocal, and had his fate Who sickened in the time of his vacancy, being Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas,

forbid to goto London, by reason of the plague. Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : Here lies old Hobson ; Death hath broke his girt,

His letters are deliver'd all and gone,
And here, alas ! hath laid him in the dirt ;

Only remains this superscription.
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He's here stuck in a slongh, and overthrown.

'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down; FORCERS OF CONSCIENCB
For he had, any time this ten years full,
Dodg'd with him betwixt Cambridge and The


| Because you have thrown off your prelate Lord,
And surely Death could never have prevail'd, And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy,
Had not his weekly course of carriage faild; To seise the widow'd whore Plurality
But lately finding him so long at home,

From them whose sin se envied, not abhorr'd; And thinking now his journey's end was come, Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword And that he had ta'en vp his latest inn,

To force our consciences that Christ set free, In the kind office of a chamberlin

And ride us with a classic hierarchy Show'd him his room where he must lodge that Taught ve by mere A. S. and Rotherford ? night,

| Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light:

intent, If any ask for him, it shall be sed,

Would have been held in high esteem with “ Hobson has supt, and's newly gone to bed.”

Must now be nam'd and printed heretics

By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call :

But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Here lieth one, who did most truly prove

Your plots and packing worse than those of

Trent, That be could never dic while he could move ;

That so the Parliament Birch, and from him doctor Newton, asserts, that this copy of verses was written in the twenty

twente. I shops-gate-street, where his figure in fresco, with second year of Milton's age, and printed with the

| an inscription, was lately to be seen. Peck, at Poems of Shakspeare at London in 1640. It first

the end of his Memoirs of Cromwell, has printed

Hobson's will, which is dated at the close of the appeared among other recommendatory verses, prefixed to the folio edition of Shakspeare's

year 1630. He died Jan. 1, 1630, while the plays in 1632. But without Milton's name or

plague was in London. This piece was written initials. This therefore is the first of Milton's

that year. The proverb, to which Hobson's caprice, pieces that was published.

founded perhaps on goud sense, gave rise, needs * Hobson's inn at London was the Bull in Bi. not to be repeated. VOLL VII,

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