Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

His daughter she-in Saturn's reign
Such mixture was not held a stain-
Oft in glimmering bowers and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
Whilst yet1 there was no fear of Jove.
Come, pensive nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,
And sable stole of Cyprus lawn,2
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted state,
With even step, and musing gait,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:
There, held in holy passion still,
Forget thyself to marble, till

With a sad leaden downward cast,

Thou fix them on the earth as fast;

And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft3 with gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,

Aye round about Jove's altar sing;
And add to these retired Leisure,

[blocks in formation]

Whilst yet, &c.-i. e. before Jupiter rebelled against his father.

2 Cyprus lawn-a fine fabric made at Cyprus; generally, but not always, of a black colour. Some read "Cypress" in reference to the shrub so called, which is of a dark hue.

3 Spare Fast, that oft, &c.-To imply that temperance is favourable to poetical enthusiasm.

The fiery-wheeled throne-the throne of God or Providence, guided by calm and comprehensive forethought.

5 Hist-hushed; the same as "whist." See note 2, p. 296.

While Cynthia checks her dragon-yoke,
Gentle o'er the accustomed oak.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!

Thee, chantress, oft the woods among
I woo, to hear thy even song;
And, missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven 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;
And oft, as if her head she bowed,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

Oft, on a plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off curfew sound,
Over some wide-watered shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar;
Or, if the air will not permit,
Some still removed2 place will fit,
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom;
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,
Or the bellman's drowsy charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Or let my lamp, at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely tower,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,3
With thrice-great Hermes; or unsphere
The spirit of Plato, to unfold
What worlds or what vast regions hold
The immortal mind, that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook;
And of those5 demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,

1 Cynthia checks, &c.-i. e. Night stops to hear the nightingale.

2 Removed--remote, unfrequented.

3 Out-watch the Bear, &c.-i. e, study till past midnight the works of Hermes Trismegistus (the Mercury of the Egyptians) or of Plato.

4 Unsphere the spirit- awake it from its sphere or mansion, and bid it tell me where the soul goes when it leaves the body.

5 And of, &c.-i. e. "unfold" or give me information of, or concerning those demons, &c. The construction here is very peculiar.

2

Whose power hath a true1 consent
With planet, or with element.

Sometimes let gorgeous Tragedy2
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes', or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine;
Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskined stage.3

But, O sad virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musæus+ from his bower!
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes, as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made hell grant what love did seek.
Or call up him that left5 half-told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife,

That owned the virtuous ring and glass;
And of the wonderous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride;
And if aught else great bards beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of tourneys, and of trophies hung,
Of forests and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.

8

Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited9 Morn appear;

Hath a true, &c.-i. e. works with planetary or elemental influences.

Gorgeous tragedy, &c.-i. e. the famous tragedies of the Greeks, founded, generally, on the distresses of kings; pall here means, a flowing robe.

3 Buskined stage-the buskin symbolises tragedy, as the sock does comedy, See note 1, p. 310.

4 Musaus—a celebrated Greek poet whose works are lost.

5 Him that left, &c.-Chaucer. The story may be found in the extracts from that poet, pp. 243-251. Spenser endeavoured to complete it in the

"Faerie Queen," Bk. iv.

6 And if aught else, &c.-i. e. O mournful virgin, relate to me any thing else that great bards, &c. He here refers to Spenser and the "Faerie Queen."

7 Where more is meant, &c.-In reference to the allegorical meaning of the "Faerie Queen."

8 Thus night, &c.-"Hitherto we have seen the night of the melancholy man; here his day commences:" Warton.

9 Civil-suited-soberly attired, not splendidly adorned, as in "L'Allegro."

Not tricked and frounced1 as she was wont
With the Attic boy2 to hunt,

But kerchiefed in a comely cloud,

While rocking winds are piping loud,
Or ushered with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves,
With minute drops3 from off the eaves.
And, when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,
Of pine, or monumental+ oak,

Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke,
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
There, in close covert, by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from day's garish eye,
While the bee with honeyed thigh,
That at her flowery work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring,
With such concert as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep:

5

And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings in airy stream
Of lively portraiture displayed,
Softly on my eye-lids laid:

And, as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or the unseen Genius of the wood.

1 Tricked and frounced-dressed and frizzled, or curled.

2 Attic boy-Cephalus, with whom Aurora fell in love as he was hunting. 3 Minute drops-drops falling at intervals, as we say minute-guns, and minute-bells.

4 Monumental-perhaps so called from the great age to which the oak lives, surviving, as it were, like a monument of by-gone times.

5 Honeyed thigh-this is slightly incorrect; the bee collects honey in a bag, and wax on its thigh.

6 Let some strange, &c.-i. e. let some strange mysterious dream wave at or rustle the wings of Sleep with an airy stream of visionary figures, vividly pourtrayed to my fancy. The meaning of this passage may perhaps be illustrated by comparing Jonson's song "To Fancy, at Night." See p. 172.

But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters pale,1
And love the high-embowed roof,
With antique pillars massy proof,2
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced quire below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstacies,

And bring all heaven before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every star that heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live.

EXTRACTS FROM PARADISE LOST.3
THE EXORDIUM.

Or Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste

1 Pale-this may mean either, as an adjective, dim, or shaded, or as a substantive, the pale, or enclosure of the cloister.

2 Massy proof-i. e. massy and proof, or immovable. This explanation seems justified, as Dr. Mant remarks, by the parallel expression used by Milton in "Samson Agonistes," where he speaks of a "frock of mail" being "adamantean proof," that is, adamantean and proof, or impenetrable.

3 Paradise Lost-the most sublime work of imagination ever presented to the world, was published in 1667, when Milton was in his sixtieth year. He had been blind several years when he began to compose it, but neither this calamity nor the troublous times in which he lived and suffered, daunted him in prosecuting to its close a work which he hoped, "the world would not willingly let die."

The calm dignity and majesty of this exordium, give us an exalted idea of the poet's mental power; he rises to the "height of his great argument," with scarcely an effort, and thus at once assures the reader, and stamps the character of the poem.

« ÎnapoiContinuă »