As may with sweetnes, through mine ear,
165
Dissolve me into extasies,
And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peacefull hermitage,
The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,
170
Where I may sit and rightly spell,27
Of every Star that Heav’n doth shew,
And every Herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To somthing like Prophetic strain.
175
These pleasures Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
(1631 ?)
* * *
1 foolish.
2 attendants upon the god of dreams.
3 an Ethiopian prince, known for his handsomeness.
4 Cassiopeia boasted that her daughter Andromeda was more beautiful than the Nereids, for which she was made a constellation.
5 Goddess of the hearth, Vesta was the virgin daughter of Saturn. Although the genealogy of Melancholy was apparently made up by Milton, the relation between Saturn and the “pensive nun” may have been suggested by the supposed gravity of those born under the sign of Saturn.
6 son of Saturn, who overthrew his father’s rule of the heavens.
7 a fine, black fabric.
8 firmly established.
9 drawn from Ezekiel’s vision (Ezek. i, x) of the fiery wheels and the throne above the cherubim.
10 The cherubim had the faculty of knowledge and contemplation of divine things.
11 the nightingale.
12 See Ely, n. 13.
13 the town’s night-watchman.
14 The northern constellation of the Great Bear, since it never sets, was regarded by Hermes Trismegistus (for whom see Idea, n. 10) as a kind of perfection. “Il Penseroso,” reading Hermes, will thus study and think through the full night.
15 Neoplatonic deities of the four elements in the next line.
16 He seems to contemplate such plays as those dealing with the Oedipean dynasty, the house of Atreus, and Euripedes’ Trojan Women and Hecuba, Tragic actors wore high-heeled boots (buskins).
17 a legendary Greek poet praised by Plato.
18 See L’Allegro, n. 19.
19 Chaucer, whose unfinished “Squire’s Tale” tells this story. The ring and glass gave special powers of achievement to their owner.
20 course.
21 unshowily dressed.
22 Cephalus; see El. 5, n. 10.
23 Sylvanus, god of forests.
24 harmony.
25 the bounds of the cloister.
26 grotesque pillars so massive as to prevent the roof from falling.
27 ponder.
PART 2
Poems
Written During
Studious Retirement
or Associated with the
European Trip
(1632–40)
Sonnet 7
How soon hath Time the suttle theef of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentith yeer!
My hasting dayes fly on with full career,1
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th.2
5
Perhaps my semblance might deceave the truth
That I to manhood am arriv’d so neer,
And inward ripenes doth much less appear,
That som more timely-happy spirits3 indu’th.4
Yet be it5 less or more, or soon or slow,
10
It shall be still6 in strictest measure eev’n7
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav’n;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great task-maisters eye.8
(Dec. 1632)
* * *
1 speed.
2 It is unlikely that any specific vocation is referred to here, though some have interpreted the line in terms of poetry.
3 those who have matured as one might normally expect. Milton remarks his lack of accomplishment to date, the point made in a letter to a friend, to which he attached this sonnet: “I am somtyme suspicious of my selfe, & doe take notice of a certaine belatednesse in me” (TM, p. 6).
4 invests.
5 inward ripening.
6 always.
7 level, equivalent.
8 “All things are, as they always have been, foreseen by God, my great taskmaster, just as long as I have the grace to use my inward ripeness as He wishes.” As pointed out by Lewis Campbell (Classical Review, VIII, 1894, 349), the lines may owe something to Pindar (Nemean Odes, IV, 41-43): “Whatsoever excellence Lord Destiny assigned me, well I know that the lapse of time will bring it to its appointed perfection.” Yet they are Biblical too; Exod. xxxiii. 13: “Now therefore, I pray thee, if I have found grace in thy sight, shew me now thy way, that I may know thee, that I may find grace in thy sight”; and Rom. xii. 3, 6: “For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.… Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us.…”
Arcades1
Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Darby2 at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of State,3 with this Song.
1. SONG
Look Nymphs, and Shepherds look,
What sudden blaze of majesty
Is that which we from hence descry
Too divine to be mistook:
5
This this is she
To whom our vows4 and wishes bend,
Heer our solemn search hath end.
Fame that her high worth to raise
Seem’d erst so lavish and profuse,
10
We may justly now accuse
Of detraction from her praise,
Less then half we find exprest,
Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state she spreds
15
In circle round her shining throne,
Shooting her beams like silver threds.
This this is she alone,
Sitting like a Goddes bright
In the center of her light
20
Might she the wise Latona5 be
Or the towred Cybele,6
Mother of a hunderd gods;
Juno dares not give her odds;7
Who had thought this clime had held
25
A deity so unparalel’d?
As they com forward, the Genius of the Wood8 appears, and turning toward them, speaks.
Gen. Stay gentle9 Swains, for though in this disguise,
I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes.
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung
Of that renowned flood so often sung,
30
Divine Alphéus, who by secret sluse,
Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse;10
And ye the breathing Roses of the Wood,
Fair silver-buskin’d Nymphs as great and good,
I know this quest of yours, and free intent11
35
Was all in honour and devotion ment
To the great Mistres of yon princely shrine,
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,
And with all helpfull service will comply
To furder this nights glad solemnity;
40
And lead ye where ye may more neer behold
What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;
Which I full oft amidst these shades alone
Have sate to wonder at, and gaze upon:
For know by lot12 from Jove I am the powr
45
Of this fair Wood, and live in Oak’n bowr,
To nurse the Saplings tall, and curl the grove
With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.
And all my Plants I save from nightly ill
Of noisom winds, or blasting vapours chill,
50
And from the Boughs brush off the evil dew,13
And heal the harms of thwarting14 thunder blew
Or what the cross dire-looking Planet15 smites,
Or hurtfull Worm16 with canker’d venom bites.
When Eev’ning gray doth rise, I fetch17 my round
55
Over the mount, and all this hallow’d ground,
And early ere the odorous breath of morn
Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tassel’d horn18
Shakes the high thicket, hast I all about,
Number my ranks,19 and visit every sprout
60
With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless,20
But els in deep of night when drowsines
Hath lockt up mortal sense, then listen I
To the celestial Sirens harmony,
That sit upon the nine enfolded Sphears,21
65
And sing to those that hold the vital shears,22
And turn the Adamantine spindle round,
On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
Such sweet compulsion doth in musick lie,
To lull the daughters of Necessity
70
And keep unsteddy Nature to her Law,
And the low world in measur’d motion draw
After the heav’nly tune, which none can hear
Of human mould with gross unpurged ear;
And yet such musick worthiest were to blaze
75
The peerles height of her immortal praise,
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit
Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,
What ere the skill of lesser gods can show,
80
I will assay,23 her worth to celebrate,
And so attend ye toward her glittering state;
Where ye may all that are of noble stemm
Approach, and kiss her sacred vestures hemm.
2. SONG
O’re the smooth enamel’d green
85
Where no print of step hath been,
Follow me as I sing,
And touch the warbled string.
Under the shady roof
Of branching Elm Star-proof,
90
Follow me;
I will bring you where she sits,
Clad in splendor as befits
Her deity.
Such a rural Queen
95
All Arcadia hath not seen.
3. SONG
Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more
By sandy Ladons lillied banks.
On old Lycæus or Cyllene hoar,
Trip no more in twilight ranks,
100
Though Erymanth your loss deplore,
A better soyl shall give ye thanks.
From the stony Mænalus
Bring your Flocks, and live with us.
Heer ye shall have greater grace
105
To serve the Lady of this place.
Though Syrinx24 your Pans Mistres were,
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.
(1633-34 ?)
* * *
1 natives of Arcadia, an area of Peloponnesus, whose rivers were Alpheus (l. 30) and Ladon (l. 97) and whose mountains were Lycaeus (l. 98), Cyllene (l. 98), Erymanthus (l. 100), and Maenalus (l. 102).
2 Alice Spencer, widow of Ferdinando Stanley, Lord Strange and fifth Earl of Derby, who married Sir Thomas Egerton in 1600. Her daughter Frances married his son Sir John Egerton, later Earl of Bridgewater, whose children Alice, John, and Thomas may have taken part in the entertainment. The occasion and thus the date of the presentation are uncertain.
3 where the Countess sits on “her shining throne.”
4 prayers.
5 Leto, mother of Apollo and Diana.
6 the Great Mother, whose crown indicated her guidance to men in fortifying their cities (see Aen., X, 252-53).
7 “dares not wager with her” since the odds (advantage) are in her favor.
8 See Nativity Ode, n. 40. Henry Lawes (see Mask and Son. 13) probably enacted this role and wrote music for the entertainment.
9 of gentlemanly rank.
10 The river-god Alpheus fell in love with the nymph Arethuse as she bathed. She fled to Ortygia (an island off Sicily) where Diana transformed her into a fountain, but Alpheus flowed beneath the sea (“by secret sluse”) to be united with her.
11 lavish intention.
12 allotment.
13 hoarfrost (frozen dew).
14 traversing (the sky).
15 Saturn; see Damon, n. 13.
16 the injurious cankerworm.
17 take.
18 the huntsman’s horn, adorned with tassels.
19 count my rows (of plants).
20 with prayers for growth.
21 See Nativity Ode, n. 26.
22 The Fates, the daughters of Necessity, were Clotho, who held the spindle of life, on which the spheres turned; Lachesis, who drew off the thread; and Atropos, who cut it short with her shears.
23 attempt.
24 a nymph, unsuccessfully wooed by Pan.
A Mask1
THE PERSONS
The attendant Spirit afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis Comus with his crew
The Lady
1 Brother
2 Brother
Sabrina the Nymph
The first scene discovers a wild wood. The attendant Spirit descends or enters.
Before the starry threshold of Joves court
Of bright aëreal spirits live insphear’d
In regions mild of calm and serene air,
5
Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot,
Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care
Confin’d and pester’d in this pinfold heer,
Strive to keep up a frail and feavourish beeing
Unmindfull of the crown that vertue gives3
10
After this mortal change to her true servants
Amongst the enthron’d gods on sainted seats.
Yet som there be that by due steps aspire
To lay thir just hands on that golden key
That opes the palace of Eternity:
15
To such my errand is, and but for such,
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds4
With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould.
But to my task. Neptune besides the sway
Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream
20
Took in by lot ‘twixt high, and neather Jove5
Imperial rule of all the sea-girt Iles
That like to rich and various gems inlay
The unadorned bosom of the deep,
Which he to grace his tributary gods
25
By course commits to severall government
And gives them leave to wear thir saphire crowns
And weild thir little tridents, but this Ile
The greatest and the best of all the main
He quarters to his blu-hair’d deities,
30
And all this tract6 that fronts the falling sun
A noble peer of mickle7 trust and power
Has in his charge, with temper’d aw to guide
An old and haughty nation proud in Arms:
Where his fair ofspring nurs’t in princely lore
35
Are comming to attend thir fathers state
And new-entrusted Scepter, but thir way
&n
bsp; Lies through the perplext paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horror of whose shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandring passinger.
40
And heer thir tender age might suffer perill,
But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
I was dispatcht for thir defence, and guard;
And listen why, for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or song
45
From old or modern Bard in hall, or bowr.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crush’t the sweet poyson of mis-used wine
After the Tuscan mariners transform’d8
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed
50
On Circe’s Iland9 fell (who knows not Circe
The daughter of the Sun? whose charmed cup
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape
And downward fell into a groveling swine)
This nymph that gaz’d upon his clustring locks
55
With ivy berries wreath’d, and his blith youth
Had by him ere he parted thence, a son
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therfore she brought up, and Comus nam’d,
Who ripe and frolick of his full grown age,
60
Roaving the Celtick, and Iberian feilds,10
At last betakes him to this ominous wood,
And in thick shelter of black shade imbowr’d,
Excells his mother at her mighty art,
Offring to every weary travailer
65
His orient liquor in a crystal glass
To quench the drouth of Phœbus, which as they tast
(For most do tast through fond intemperate thirst)
Soon as the potion works, thir human countnance,
Th’ express resemblance of the gods, is chang’d