Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake This evil on the Philistines is fall'n: With thee; say, reverend sire, we thirst to hear. From whom could else a general cry be heard ?

Man I have attempted one by one the lords, The sufferers then will scarce molest us here; Either at home, or through the high street passing, From other hands we need not much to fear. With supplication prone and father's tears,

What if, his eye-sight (for to Israel's God To accept of ransom for my son their prisoner. Nothing is hard) by miracle restord, Some much averse I found, and wondrous harsh, He now be dealing dole among his foes, Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way? That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his priests : Man. That were a joy presumptuous to be thought Others more moderate seeming, but their aim

Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible Private reward, for which both God and state For his people of old; what hinders now? They easily would set to sale: a third

Man. He can, I know, but doubt to think he will, More generous far and civil, who confess'd Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. They had enough reveng'd; having reduc'd A little stay will bring some notice hither. Their foe to misery beneath their fears,

Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner; The rest was magnanimity to remit,

For evil news rides post, while good news bates. If some convenient ransom were propos'd.

And to our wish I see one hither speeding, What noise or shout was that? it tore the sky. An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe.

Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to behold Their once great dread, captive, and blind before

[Enter MESSENGER.] them,

Mess. O whither shall I run, or which way fly Or at some proof of strength before them shown. The sight of this so horrid spectacle,

Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold, May compass it, shall willingly be paid

For dire imagination still pursues me. And number'd down: much rather I shall choose But providence or instinct of nature seems, To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest, Or reason though disturb'd, and scarce consulted, And he in that calamitous prison left.

To have guided me aright, I know not how, No, I am fix'd not to part hence without him. To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these For his redemption all my patrimony,

My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining, If need be, I am ready to forego

As at some distance from the place of horror, And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing. So in the sad event too much concern'd.

Chor. Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all;

With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not; Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age, No preface needs, thou seest we long to know. Thou in old age car’st how to nurse thy son,

Mess. It would burst forth, but I recover breath Made older than thy age through eye-sight lost. And sense distract, to know well what I utter. Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes,

Man. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. And view him sitting in the house, ennobled

Mess. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fall'n, With all those high exploits by him achiev'd, All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'a. And on his shoulders waving down those locks Man. Sad, but thou know'st to Israelites not saddest That of a nation arm'd the strength contain's : The desolation of a hostile city.

(surfeit. And I persuade me, God had not permitted

Mess. Feed on that first : there may in grief be His strength again to grow up with his hair,

Man. Relate by whom. Garrison'd round about him like a camp

Mess.

By Samson. Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose

Man.

That still lessens To use him further yet in some great service; The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. Not to sit idle with so great a gift

Mess. Ah! Manoah, I refrain too suddenly
Useless, and thence ridiculous about him.

To utter what will come at last too soon ;
And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption
God will restore him eye-sight to his strength. Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep.

Chor. Thy hopes are not ill-founded, nor seem vain Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. Of his delivery, and the joy thereon

Mess. Take then the worst in brief, Samson is dead. Conceiv'd, agreeable to a father's love,

Man. The worst indeed, 0 all my hopes de. In both which we, as next, participate.

(noise !

feated Man. I know your friendly minds and —O what To free him hence! but death, who sets all free, Mercy of Heaven, what hideous noise was that, Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. Horribly loud, unlike the former shout.

What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd Chor. Noise call you it, or universal groan, Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves As if the whole inhabitation perish'd !

Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring Blood, death, and deathful deeds, are in that noise, Nipt with the lagging rear of winter's frost! Ruin, destruction at the utmost point.

Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first, Man. Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise: How died he; death to life is crown or shame. Oh! it continues, they have slain my son.

All by him fell, thou say'st: by whom fell he ? Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them : that outcry What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound? From slaughter of one foe could not ascend.

Mess. Unwounded of his enemies he fell. (plain. Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be ; Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how ? ex. What shall we do, stay here or run and see?

Mess. By his own hands. Chor. Best keep together here, lest, running Man.

Self-violence? what cause thither,

Brought him so soon at variance with himself We unawares run into danger's mouth.

Among his foes ?

Mess.
Inevitable cause,

Met from all parts to solemnize this feast.
At once both to destroy, and be destroy'd ; Samson, with these inmixd, inevitably
The edifice, where all were met to see him, Pullid down the same destruction on himself;
Upon their heads and on his own he pullid. The vulgar only 'scap'd who stood without.
Man. O lastly over-strong against thyself!

Chor. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious !
A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd
More than enough we know; but while things yet The work for which thou wast foretold
Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst,

To Israel, and now liest victorious Eye-witness of what first or last was done, Among thy slain self-kill'd, Relation more particular and distinct.

Not willingly, but tangled in the fold Mess. Occasions drew me early to this city ; Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd And, as the gates I enter'd with sun-rise,

Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd

Than all thy life hath slain before. [sublime, Through each high street: little I had dispatch'd, 1. Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and When all abroad was rumor'd that this day Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, Samson should be brought forth, to show the people And fat regorg'd of bulls and goats, Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games ; Chanting their idol, and preferring I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded Before our living Dread who dwells Not to be absent at that spectacle.

In Silo, his bright sanctuary :
The building was a spacious theatre

Among them he a spirit of frenzy sent,
Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, Who hurt their minds,
With seats where all the lords, and each degree And urg'd them on with mad desire
Of sort, might sit in order to behold!

To call in haste for their destroyer;
The other side was open, where the throng They, only set on sport and play,
On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand ; Unweetingly impórtun'd
I among these aloof obscurely stood.

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them.
The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice (wine, So fond are mortal men,
Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and Fall’n into wrath divine,
When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately As their own ruin on themselves to invite,
Was Samson as a public servant brought,

Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
In their state livery clad; before him pipes, And with blindness internal struck.
And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 2. Semichor. But he, though blind of sight,
Both horse and foot, before him and behind Despis'd and thought extinguish'd quite,
Archers, and slingers, cataphracts and spears. With inward eyes illuminated,
At sight of him the people with a shout

His fiery virtue rous'd
Rifted the air, clamoring their god with praise, From under ashes into sudden flame,
Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. And as an evening dragon came,
He patient, but undaunted, where they led him, Assailant on the perched roosts
Came to the place; and what was set before him, And nests in order rang'd
Which without help of eye might be assay'd, Of tame villatic fowl ; but as an eagle
To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads.
All with incredible, stupendous force ;

So virtue, given for lost,
None daring to appear antagonist.

Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd,
At length for intermission's sake they led him Like that self-begotten bird
Between the pillars; he his guide requested In the Arabian woods embost,
(For so from such as nearer stood we heard) That no second knows nor third,
As over-tir'd to let him lean awhile

And lay erewhile a holocaust,
With both his arms on those two massy pillars, From out her ashy womb now teem'd,
That to the arched-roof gave main support. Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most
He, unsuspicious, led him; which when Samson When most unactive deem'd;
Felt in his arms, with head awhile inclin'd, And, though her body die, her fame survives
And eyes fast fix'd he stood, as one who pray'd, A secular bird ages of lives.
Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd :

Man. Come, come; no time for lamentation now, At last with head erect thus cried aloud,

Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself “ Hitherto, lords, what your commands impos'd Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying,

A life heroic, on his enemies Not without wonder or delight beheld :

Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning, Now of my own accord such other trial

And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor
I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, Through all Philistian bounds, to Israel
As with amaze shall strike all who behold." Honor hath left, and freedom, let but them
This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd, Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ;
As with the force of winds and waters pent, To himself and father's house eternal fame;
When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars And, which is best and happiest yet, all this
With horrible convulsion to and fro

With God not parted from him, as was fear’d,
He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came, and drew, But favoring and assisting to the end.
The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,

Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt,
Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, Dispraise, or blame ; nothing but well and fair,
Their choice nobility and flower, not only And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Of this but each Philistian city round,

Let us go find the body where it lies

Soak'd in his enemies' blood; and from the stream The idle spear and shield were high up hung i
With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off The hooked chariot stood
The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, Unstain'd with hostile blood;
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay,)

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ;
Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, And kings sat still with awful eye,
To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.
With silent obsequy, and funeral train,
Home to his father's house : there will I build him But peaceful was the night,
A monument, and plant it round with shade Wherein the Prince of light
Of laurel ever-green, and branching palm,

His reign of peace upon the Earth began :
With all his trophies hung, and acts enrolld The winds, with wonder whist,
In copious legend, or sweet lyric song.

Smoothly the waters kist,
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, And from his memory inflame their breasts Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

(wave. To matchless valor, and adventures high:

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed The virgins also shall, on feastful days, Visit his tomb with flowers; only be wailing The stars, with deep amaze, His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,

Stand fix'd in stedfast gaze, From whence captivity and loss of eyes.

Bending one way their precious influence ; Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt

And will not take their flight, What the unsearchable dispose

For all the morning light, Of highest Wisdom brings about,

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence ; And ever best found in the close,

But in their glimmering orbs did glow, Oft he seems to hide his face,

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. But unexpectedly returns, And to his faithful champion hath in place And, though the shady gloom Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns, Had given day her room, And all that band them to resist

The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, His uncontrollable intent;

And hid his head for shame, His servants he, with new acquist

As his inferior flame Of true experience, from this great event

The new-enlighten'd world no more should need : With peace and consolation hath dismist.

He saw a greater Sun appear

(bear. And calm of mind, all passion spent.

| Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could

The shepherds on the lawn,
Or e'er the point of dawn,

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;

Full little thought they then,
CHRISTMAS HYMN.

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below; It was the winter wild,

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, While the Heaven-born child

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; Nature in awe to him,

When such music sweet Had doff'd her gaudy trim,

Their hearts and ears did greet, With her great Master so to sympathize :

As never was by mortal finger strook ;
It was no season then for her

Divinely-warbled voice
To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour. Answering the stringed noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took :
Only with speeches fair

The air, such pleasure loth to lose,

(close. She wooes the gentle air

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; And on her naked shame,

Nature that heard such sound,
Pollute with sinful blame,

Beneath the hollow round
The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Of Cynthia's seat, the aery region thrilling,
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes

Now was almost won
Should look so near upon her foul deformities. To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; But he, her fears to cease,

She knew such harmony alone Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace;

Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier union. She, crown'd with olive-green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere,

At last surrounds their sight His ready harbinger,

A globe of circular light, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; That with long beams the shamefac'd night array’d; And, waving wide her myrtle wand,

The helmed Cherubim, She strikes an universal peace through sea and land. And sworded Seraphim,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, No war, or battle's sound,

Harping in loud and solemn quire, Was heard the world around:

With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born Heir.

Such music (as 'tis said)

The lonely mountains o'er, Before was never made,

And the resounding shore, But when of old the sons of morning sung, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; While the Creator great

From haunted spring and dale, . His constellations set,

Edg'd with poplar pale, And the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung ; The parting genius is with sighing sent; And cast the dark foundations deep, [keep. With flower-inwoven tresses torn, (mourn. And bid the weltering waves their cozy channel The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets Ring out, ye crystal spheres,

In consecrated earth, Once bless our human ears,

And on the holy hearth,

(plaint; If ye have power to touch our senses so;

The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight And let your silver chime

In urns, and altars round, Move in melodious time;

A drear and dying sound And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And with your ninefold harmony,

And the chill marble seems toʻsweat, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. For, if such holy song

Peor and Baälim
Enwrap our fancy long,

Forsake their temples dim,
Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine ;
And speckled Vanity

And mooned Ashtaroth,
Will sicken soon and die,

Heaven's queen and mother both,
And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; Now sits not girt with ta per's holy shine ;
And Hell itself will pass away,

The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, (mourn. And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz Yea, Truth and Justice then

And sullen Moloch, fled,
Will down return to men,

Hath left in shadows dread
Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, His burning idol all of blackest hue;
Mercy will sit between,

In vain with cymbals' ring
Thron'd in celestial sheen,

They call the grisly king,
With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; In dismal dance about the furnace blue :
And Heaven, as at some festival,

The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
But wisest Fate says no,

Nor is Osiris seen
This must not yet be so,

In Memphian grove or green,

[loud. The babe yet lies in smiling infancy,

Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings That on the bitter cross

Nor can he be at rest Must redeem our loss ;

Within his sacred chest ; So both himself and us to glorify:

Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep, [the deep; In vain with timbrellid anthems dark The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark. With such a horrid clang

He feels from Judah's land As on mount Sinai rang,

[brake: The dreaded infant's hand, While the red fire and smouldering clouds out The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; The aged Earth, aghast

Nor all the gods beside With terror of that blast,

Longer dare abide, Shall from the surface to the centre shake; Not Typhon huge, ending in snaky twine : When, at the world's last session, [throne. Our babe, to show his Godhead true, (crew. The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his Can in his swaddling bands control the damned And then at last our bliss

So, when the Sun in bed,
Full and perfect is,

Curtain'd with cloudy red,
But now begins; for, from this happy day, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
The old Dragon, under ground

The flocking shadows pale
In straiter limits bound,

Troop to the infernal jail, Not half so far casts his usurped sway;

Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,

And the yellow-skirted Fayes

[maze. Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lov'd The oracles are dumb,

But see, the Virgin blest No voice or hideous hum

Hath laid her babe to rest; Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Time is, our tedious song should here have ending: Apollo from his shrine

Heaven's youngest-teemed star Can no more divine,

Hath fix'd her polish'd car, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending No nightly trance, or breathed spell,

And all about the courtly stable Inspires the pale-ey'd priests from the prophetic cell. Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviceable.

EDMUND WALLER.

EDMUND WALLER, born at Coleshill, Hertford Waller had a brother-in-law, named Tomkyns, shire, in March, 1605, was the son of Robert Wal- who was clerk of the queen's council, and possessler, Esq., a gentleman of an ancient family and good ed great influence in the city among the warm fortune, who married a sister of the celebrated John loyalists. On consulting together, they thought it Hampden. The death of his father during his infancy would be possible to raise a powerful party, which left him heir to an estate of 35001. a year, at that might oblige the parliament to adopt pacific measperiod an ample fortune. He was educated first at ures, by resisting the payment of the taxes levied Eton, whence he was removed to King's College for the support of the war. About this time Sir in Cambridge. His election to parliament was as Nicholas Crispe formed a design of more dangerous early as between his sixteenth or seventeenth year; import, which was that of exciting the king's and it was not much later that he made his appear friends in the city to an open resistance of the auance as a poet: and it is remarkable that a copy of thority of parliament; and for that purpose he obverses which he addressed to Prince Charles, in his tained a commission of array from his majesty, eighteenth year, exhibits a style and character of This plan appears to have been originally unconversification as perfectly formed as those of his nected with the other; yet the commission was maturest productions. He again served in parlia- made known to Waller and Tomkyns, and the whole ment before he was of age ; and he continued his was compounded into a horrid and dreadful plot. services to a later period. Not insensible of the Waller and Tomkyns were apprehended, when the value of wealth, he augmented his paternal fortune pusillanimity of the former disclosed the whole by marriage with a rich city heiress. In the long secret. “He was so confounded with fear,” (says intermissions of parliament which occurred after Lord Clarendon,) “that he confessed whatever he 1628, he retired to his mansion of Beaconsfield, had heard, said, thought, or seen, all that he knew where he continued his classical studies, under the of himself, and all that he suspected of others, withdirection of his kinsman Morley, afterwards bishop out concealing any person, of what degree or qualiof Winchester; and he obtained admission to a ty soever, or any discourse which he had ever upon society of able men and polite scholars, of whom any occasion entertained with them.” The concluLord Falkland was the connecting medium. sion of this business was, that Tomkyns, and Cha

Waller became a widower at the age of twenty- loner, another conspirator, were hanged, and that five: he did not, however, spend much time in Waller was expelled the House, tried, and conmourning, but declared himself the suitor of Lady demned; but after a year's imprisonment, and a fine Dorothea Sydney, eldest daughter of the Earl of of ten thousand pounds, was suffered to go into Leicester, whom he has immortalized under the exile. He chose Rouen for his first place of foreign poetical name of Saccharissa. She is described by exile, where he lived with his wife till his removal him as a majestic and scornful beauty; and he to Paris. In that capital he maintained the appearseems to delight more in her contrast, the gentler ance of a man of fortune, and entertained hospitaAmoret, who is supposed to have been a Lady So- bly, supporting this style of living chiefly by the phia Murray. Neither of these ladies, however, sale of his wife's jewels. At length, after the lapse was won by his poetic strains; and, like another of ten years, being reduced to what he called his man, he consoled himself in a second marriage. rump jewel, he thought it time to apply for per

When the king's necessities compelled him, in mission to return to his own country. He obtained 1640, once more to apply to the representatives this license, and was also restored to his estate, of the people, Waller, who was returned for Ag. though now diminished to half its former rental. mondesham, decidedly took part with the members Here he fixed his abode, at a house built by him. who thought that the redress of grievances should self, at Beaconsfield ; and he renewed his courtly precede a vote for supplies; and he made an ener- strains by adulation to Cromwell, now Protector, getic speech on the occasion. He continued during to whom his mother was related. To this usurper three years to vote in general with the Opposition the noblest tribute of his muse was paid. in the Long Parliament, but did not enter into all When Charles II. was restored to the crown, their measures. In particular, he employed much and past character was lightly regarded, the stains cool argument against the proposal for the abolition of that of Waller were forgotten, and his wit and of Episcopacy; and he spoke with freedom and poetry procured him notice at court, and admission severity against some other plans of the House. to the highest circles. He had also sufficient inIn fact, he was at length become a zealous loyalist terest to obtain a seat in the House of Commons, in his inclinations; and his conduct under the dif- in all the parliaments of that reign. The king's ficulties into which this attachment involved him gracious manners emboldened him to ask for the became a source of his indelible disgrace. A short vacant place of provost of Eton college, which was narrative will suffice for the elucidation of this granted him; but Lord Clarendon, then Lord Chan. matter.

cellor, refused to set the seal to the grant, alleging

« AnteriorContinuar »