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Some say no evil thing that walks by night, $ 9. Powers of Body and Mind. Miton. In foy or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,
Oh how comely it is, and how reviving Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,
To the spirits of just men, long oppress'd, That breaks his magic chains at curfeu time,
When God into the hands of their deliverer No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Puts invincible might, Hath hurtful pow'r o'er true virginity. To quell the mighty of the earth, th' oppressor, Do you believe me yet, or shall I call
The brute and boisterous force of violent men, Antiquity from the old schools of Greece
Hardy and industrious to support To testify the arms of chastity ?
Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue
He all their ammunition
And feats of war defeats ;
And celestial vigor arın'd,
Renders them useless, while
Lose their defence, distracted and amaz’d.
§ 10. On Shakspeare. Milton.
WHAT needs my Shakspeare for his honor'd That, when a soul is found sincerely so,
bones A thousand liveried angels lackey her,
The labor of an age in piled stones, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid And in clear dream and solann vision,
Under a starry-pointing pyramid ? Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,
Dear son of memory! great heir of fame! Till oft converse with heavenly habitants
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape,
Thou in our wonder and astonishment [name? The unpolluted temple of the mind,
Hast built thyself a live-long monument. And turn it by degrees to the soul's essence,
For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring Till all be made immortal: but when lust, By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart But most by lewd and lavish act of sin,
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book Lets in deflement to the inward parts,
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, The soul grows clotted by contagion,
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving, Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose
Dost make us marble with too much conceiv. The divine property of her first being.
ing; Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie,
§ 11. Song: on May Morning. Milton. And link'd itself by carnal sensuality
Now the bright morning-star, day's harTo a degenerate and degraded state.
binger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap $ 7. Philosophy. Milton.
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. How charming is divine Philosophy!
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ! But musical as is Apollo's lute,
Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Aod a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Where no crude surfeit reigns !
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long. $ 8. True Liberty. Milton.
$ 12. Virtue and Evil. Milton.
Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt, - True Liberty
Surpris'd by unjust force, but not enthralld: Is lost, which always with right reason dwells Yea, even that which mischief meant most Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being: harm, Reason in man obscur'd or not obey'd, Shall in the happy trial prove most glory; Immediately inordinate desires
But even on itself shall back recoil, And upstari passions catch the government And mix no more with goodness, when at last, From reason, and to servitude reduce
Gather'd like scum, and settled to itself,' Man, till then free.
It shall be in eternal restless change
Self fed, and self-consumed: if this fail, And oft though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps The pillar'd firmament is rottenness,
At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity [ill And earth's base built on stubble.
Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no
Where no ill seems. § 13. Patience. Milton. Many are the sayings of the wise, § 18. The Lady reproving Comus. Milton. In ancient and in modern books inrolld, Extolling Patience as the truest fortitude ;
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, And to the bearing well of all calamities,
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. All chances incident to man's frail life,
Impostor! do not charge most innocent Nature, Consolatories writ
As if she would her children should be riotous With studied argument, and much persuasion Means her provision only to the good,
With her abundance! she, good cateress,
dictate of spare Temperance : Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his com
If every just man, that now pines with want, Unless he feel within
Had but a moderate and beseeming share Some of consolation from above,
Of that which lewdly-pamper'd luxury Secret refreshings, that repair his strength,
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, And fainting spirits uphold.
Nature's full blessings would be well dispens'd
In unsuperfluous even proportion, § 14. Sonnet : on his deceased Wife. Milton. And she no whit encumber'd with her store, METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint
And then the giver would be better thank'd, Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
His praise due paid ; for swinish gluttony Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, gave,
But with besotted, base ingratitude
[faint. Rescued from death by force, though pale and Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go
on ? Mine, as whom wash'd from
of child-bed Purification in the old law did save, staint Or have I said enough? To him that dares And sueh, as yet once more I trust to have
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous
words Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind :
Against the sun-clad pow'r of Chastity, Her face was veild, yet io my fancied sight Thou hast not ear, nor soul to apprehend
Fain would I something say, yet to what end? Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person The sublime notion, and high mystery
shin'd So clear, as in no face with more delight.
That must be utter'd to unfold the sage But, oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, [night. And thou art worthy
that thou shouldst not
And serious doctrine of Virginity, [know I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my More happiness than this thy present lot. § 15. Spirits. Milton.
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, [sence, -SPIRITS, when they please,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling Can either sex assume, or both; so soft
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinc'd ; And uncompounded is their essence pure;
Yet should I try, the uncontrolled worth Not tied or manacled with joint or limb,
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits
To such a fame of sacred vehemence, [thize, Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous Aesh; but in what shape they And the brute earth would lend her nerves,
That dumb things would be mor’d to sympachoose,
and shake, Dilated or condens'd, bright or obscure, Can execute their airy purposes,
Till all the magic structures, rear'd so high, And works of love or enmity fulfil.
Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head. $ 16. Pain. Milton.
§ 19. Sonnet to the Nightingale. Milton. -What avails
[with pain, Valour or strength, though matchless, quell'd O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, Spare out of life, perhaps, and not repine ; While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. But live content, which is the calmest life : Thy liquid notes, that close the eye of day, But pain is perfect misery, the worst
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Of evils ! and, excessire, overturns
Portend success in love; oh if Jove's will All patience.
Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate $ 17. Hypocrisy. MILTON.
Foretel my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; NEITHER man nor angel can discern As thou from year to year hast sung too late Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
For my relief, yet hadst no reason why : Invisible, except to God alone,
Whether the muse or love call thee his mate, By his permissive will thro' heaven and earth : Both them I serve, and of their trajn am I.
$ 20. Echo: A Song. Milton.
$ 22. Affections. Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph! that liv'st How great a toil to stem the raging food,
Within thy airy shell, [unseen When beauty stirs the mass of youthful blood !
When the swoln veins with circling torrents And in the violet-embroider'd ale,
And vengerul pride hurries the mortal on
To deeds unheard, and cruelties unknown.
man, Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the That to affections does the bridle lend:
So mayst thou be translated to the skies, In their beginning they are weak and wan, And give resounding grace to all Heav'n's har. But soon, thro suffrance, growe to fearfull end; monies.
Whiles they are weak, betimes with them con
tend : VARIOUS DESCRIPTIONS FROM
For when they once to perfect strength do
Strong warres they make, and cruel batt'ry $ 21. Adonis's Garden.
'Gainst fort of reason, it to overthrowe : But were it not that Time their troubler is, wrath, jealousy, grief, love, this 'squire have All that in this delightful garden grows
laid thus lowe. Should happy be, and have immortal bliss :
Wrath, jealousy, grief, love, do thus expell : For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes, Wrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed; And sweet love gentle fits emongst them throws,
Grief is a flood, and love a monster fell; Without fell rancour, or fond jealousie;
The fire of sparke, the weed of little seed, Frankly each paramour his leman knows,
The flood of drops, the monster filth did breed : Each bird his mate; ne any does envie
But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus Their goodly merriment, and gay felicitie.
The sparks soon quench, the springing seed Right in the middest of that paradise
outweed, There stood a stately mount, on whose round
The drops dry up, and filth wipe clean away; top
So shall wrath, jealousy, grief, love, die and A gloomy grove of myrtle trees did rise,
decay. Whose shadie boughs sharp steele did never lop, Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop:
§ 23. Ambition. But, like a girlond compassed the hight, A rout of people there assembled were, And from their fruitfull sides sweet gumes did Of every sort and nation under sky, drop,
Which with great uprore preassed, to draw That all the ground with precious dew bedight,
To th' upper part, where was advanced hie Threw forth most dainty odours, and most A stately seat of soveraigne majestie, sweet delight!
And thereon sate a woman gorgeous gay, And, in the thickest covert in that shade, And richly clad in robes of royaltie. There was a pleasant arbour, not by art, That never earthly prince in such array
But of the trees own inclination made, His glory did enchaunce, and pompous pride Which knitting their ranke branches part to display: part,
Her face right wondrous faire did seem to be, With wanton ivie-twine entail'd athwart, That her broad beauties beam great brightness And eglantine and caprisfole emong,
threw Fashion d above within her inmost part, Through the dim shade, that all men here That neither Phæbus' beams could through might see : them throng,
Yet was not that same her own native hew, Nor Eolus' sharp blast could work them any But wrought by art; and counterfeited shew, wrong.
Thereby more lovers unto her to call; And all about grew every sort of Aowre, Nath'less, more heavenly faire in deed and yiew To which sad lovers were transform'd of yore; She by creation was, till she did fall;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phæbus' paramoure, Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her And dearest love;
crimes withall. Foolish Narcisse, that likes the wat'ry shore; There, as in glist'ring glory she did sit,
Sad Aramanthus, made a flowre but late; She held a great gold chain ylinked well, Sad Aramanthus, in whose purple gore
Whose upper end to highest heaven was knit, Meseemes I see Amintas' wretched fate, And lower part did reach to lowest hell; To whom sweet poets verse hath given endless And all that prease did round about her swell, date.
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby
To climb aloft, and others to excell;
Of griesly hew, and foul ill-favour'd sight; That was Ambition, rash desire to stie; His face with smoake was tann'd, and eyes And ev'ry link thereof a step of diguitie.
His head and beard with soot were ill bedight; Some thought to raise themselves to high His coale-black hands did seem to have been degree
sear'd By riches and uprighteous reward;
In smithe's fire-speting forge, and nails like Some by close should'ring, some by Aatteree; claws appear'd. Others through friends, others for base reward; And all, by wrong ways, for themselves pre- Was underneath enveloped with gold,
His iron coat, all overgrown with rust, par'd. Those that were up themselves, kept others
Whose glistring gloss, darkened with filthy lowe;
dust, Those that were lowe themselves held others Well it appeared to have been of old hard,
A work of rich entaile, and curious mould, Ne suffer'd them to rise, or greater growe;
Woven with anticks, and wild imagery; But every one did strive his fellow down 'to And in his lap a mass of coine he told, throwe.
And turn’d upside down, to feed his eye,
And covetous desire, with his huge treasury.
Of which, some were ore not purifide
Can keep from outrage, and from doing wrong, Into great ingots, and to wedges square;
No faith so firm, no trust can be so strong, But most were stanipt, and in their metall No love so lasting then, that may enduren long. bare
The antick shapes of kings and Cæsars strange $24. Anguish.
and rare. What equal torment to the griefe of minde, And pyning anguish hid in gentle heart,
$ 27. Bashfulness. Thai inly feeds itself with thoughts unkinde,
The whiles the fairie knight did entertaine And nourisheth her own consuming smart ?
Another damsel of that gentle crew What medicine can any leache's art
That was right faire, and modest of demaine, Yield such a sore, that doth her grievance But that too oft she chang’d her native hue. And will to none her maladie impart? [hide, Strange was her tire, and all her garments blue,
Close round about her tuckt, with many a $ 25. Arbour.
Upon her fist, the bird that shunneth view, And over him art striveing to compaire And keeps in coverts close from living wight, With nature, did an arbour green dispred, Did sit, as ifasham'd how sude Dandid herdight.
Framed with wauton ivie, Alowering faire, So long as Guyon with her commun'd, Through which the fragrant eglantine did spred Unto the ground she cast her modest eye, His pricking armes, entayl'd with roses red,
And ever and anone, with rosie red," Which dainty odours round about him threw; The bashfull blood her snowy cheeks did die, And all within with flowres was garnished,
And her became as polish'd ivorie, That, when mild Zephyrus emongst them
Which cunning craftsman's hand hath overblew,
laid Did breathe out bounteous smells, and painted with fair vermillion, or pure lastery. colors shew.
Great wonder had the knight to see the maid
So strangely passioned, and to her gently said ; $26. Avarice.
Fair damsell, seemeth by your troubled cheare And greedy Avarice by him did ride, That either me too bold yee weene, this wise Upon a camel loaden all with gold ;.
You to molest, or other ill to feare,
Ir it be I, of pardon I you pray;
I will (if please you it discrue) assay Accursed usury was all his trade, [waide. To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may. And right and wrong ylike in equall balance
She answer'd nought, but more abasht for At last he came into a gloomy glade, (light, shame, Cover'd with boughs and shrubs from heaven's Held down her head, the whiles her lovely face
Whereas he sitting found, in secret shade, The flushing blood with blushing did inflame, An uncouth, salvage, and uncivill wight, And the strong passion marrd her modest grace,
That Guyon marrail'd at her uncouih case: So also did the great Cetean knight,
Till Alma him bespake, Why wonder yee, For his love's sake, his lion's skin undight: Fair sir, at that which you so much imbrace? And so did warlike Antony neglect
She is the fountaine of your modestee : The world's whole rule, for Cleopatra's sight. You shame-fac'd are, but Shame-fac'dness itself Such wond'rous pow're has women's fair aspect, is shee.
To captive men, and make them all the world
reject. Another. AND next to her sate goodly Shame-fac’dness;
§ 29. Boar. Ne ever durst her eyes from ground up-reare, And then two boars with rankling malice Ne ever once did look up from her dress,
met, As if some blame of evil she did feare, That in her cheek made roses oft appeare.
Their goary sides, fresh bleeding, fiercely fret,
Till, breathless both, themselves aside retire,
Where foaming wroth their cruel tusks they $ 28. Beauty.
whet, Nought is there under heav'n'swide hollow.
And trample th' earth the while they may
respire: ness That mores more dear compassion of mind,
Then back to fight again, new breathed and
entire. Than beauty brought t' unworthy wretched
ness By envy's snares or fortunes's freaks unkind:
$ 30. Bower of Bliss. I, whether lately through her brightness blind,
Or through allegiance and fast fealty, THence passing forth, they shortly do arrive Which I do owe unto all womankind,
Whereat the Bower of Bliss was situate; Feel my heart pierc'd with so great agony,
A place pick'd out by choice of best alive, When such I see, that all for pity I could die. That nature's work by art can imitate ; Eftsoons there stepped sorth
In which whatever in this worldly state A goodly lady, clad in hunter's weed,
Is sweet and pleasing unto living sense, That seem'd to be a woman of great worth,
Or that may daintiest fantasie aggrate, And by her stately portance borne of heavenly
Was poured forth with plentiful dispense, birth.
And made there to abound with lavish afiluence. Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not,
Goodly it was enclosed round about, But heavenly portraict of bright angels hiew, As well their enter'd guests to keep within, Clear as the sky withouten blame or blot,
As those unruly beasts to hold without; Throúgh goodly mixture of complexions dew, Yet was the fence thereof but weak and thin : And in her cheeks the vermill red did shew
Nought fear'd their force that fortilage to win, Like roses in a bed of lillies shed,
But wisdom's powre and temperance's might, The which ambrosial odours from them threw, By which the nightiest things efforced bin : And gazers sense with double pleasure fed,
And eke the gate was wronght of substance Able to heal the sick, and to revive the dead.
light, In her fair eyes two living lamps did Aame, Rather for pleasure than for battery or fight. Kindled above, at th' heavenly Maker's light, It framed was of precious yvory,
And darted fiery beams out of the same, That seem'd a work of admirable wit; So passing pearceant, and so wondrous bright,
And therein all the famous historie That quite bercav'd the rash beholders of their of Jason and Medæa was ywrit; sight:
Her mighty charnies, her furious loving fit, In them the blinded god his lustful fire
His goodly conquest of the golden fleece, To kindle oft assay'd, but had no might;
His falsed faith, and love to lightly flit, For, with dread majesty, and awful ire, The wondred Argo), which invent'rous peece She broke his wanton daris, and quenched base | First through the Euxian seas bore all the How's desire.
of Greece. Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure The sense of man, and all his mind possess,
Ye might have seen the frothy billowes fry
Under the ship, as thorough them she went, As beauty's love-bait, that doth procure
That seemed waves were into yvory, Great warriors of their rigour to repress,
Or yvory into the waves were sent: And mighty hands forget their manlıness,
And other where the snowy substance sprent, Drawn with the pow'rofan heart-robbing eye,
With vermill-like the boyes bloud therein And wrapt in fetters of a golden tress,
shed, That can with melting pleasance mollify Their harden'd hearts, enur'd to blood and A piteous spectacle did represent;
And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled, cruelty.
It seemid thi enchanted flame which did Creüsa So whilome learn'd that mighty Jewish swain, wed. Each of whose locks did match a man of might, All this and more might in this goodly gate To lay his spoils before his leman's train
: Be read; that ever open stood to all