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For we were nurs’d upon the self-same hill,

O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd food, Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill. Smooth sliding Mincius, crown’d with vocal reeds,

Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd That strain I heard was of a higher mood : Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,

But now my oat proceeds, We drove a-field, and both together heard

And listens to the herald of the sea What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn, That came in Neptune's plea ; Batt’ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, Oft till the star that rose at evening bright,

What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ? Tow'rds Heav'n's descent had slop'd his west'ring And question'd every gust of rugged winds Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, (wheel.

That blows from off each beak'd promontory; Temper'd to th’oaten flute,

They knew not of his story,
Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with cloven heel And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
From the glad sound would not be absent long,

That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd; And old Damætas lov’d to hear our song.

The air was calm, and on the level brine But O the heavy change, now thou art gone,

Sleek Panope with all her sisters play’d. Now thou art gone, and never must return!

It was that fatal and perfidious bark Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desart caves Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, That synk so low that sacred head of thine. And all their echoes mourn.

Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, The willows and the hazel copses green,

His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Shall now no more be seen,

Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.

Like to that sanguine flower, inscrib'd with woe. As killing as the canker to the rose,

Ah! who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge ? Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,

Last and last did go, Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear,

The pilot of the Galilean lake, When first the white-thorn blows;

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear.

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain) Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless

He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake, Clos'd o'er the head of your lov’d Lycidas ? (deep

How well could I have spar’d for thee, young swain, For neither were ye playing on the steep,

Enow of such as for their bellies' sake Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,

Of other care they little reck’ning make, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream:

Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast, Ay me! I fondly dream

And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; [hold Had you been there ; for what could that have done ? Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,

A sheep-hook, or have learn’d aught else the least The Muse herself for her enchanting son,

That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! Whom universal Nature did lament,

What recks it them? what need they? they are sped; When by the rout that made the hideous roar,

And when they list, their lean and flashy songs His goary visage down the stream was sent,

Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw: Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, Alas! what boots it with incessant care

But swoll'n with wind, and the rank mist they draw, To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade,

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread; And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ?

Besides what the grim wolf, with privy paw, Were it not better done, as others use,

Daily devours apace; and nothing said, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,

But that two-handed engine at the door, Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair?

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. Fame is the spur that the clear sp’rit doth raise Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past (That last infirmity of noble mind)

That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, To scorn delights, and live laborious days ;

And call the vales, and bid them hither cast But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,

Their bells, and flow'rets of a thousand hues. And think to burst out into sudden blaze,

Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears, Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise,

On whose fresh lap the swart star rarely looks, Phæbus reply'd, and touch'd my trembling ears;

Throw hither all your quaint enamelld eyes, Fame is no plant that grows in mortal soil,

That on the green turf suck the honied showers, Nor in the glist'ring foil

And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Set off to th’ world, nor in broad rumour lies, Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
But lives, and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,

The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;

The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet,
As he pronounces lastly on each deed,

The glowing violet,
Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed. The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,

With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head, Fast by the oracle of God; I thence
And every flower that sad embroidery wears: Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song,
Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,

That with no middle flight intends to soar
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,

Above th’ Aonian mount, while it pursues To strow the laureat herse where Lycid lies. Things upattempted yet in prose or rhyme. For so to interpose a little ease,

And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. Before all temples the upright heart and pure, Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas

Instruct me,

for thou know'st; thou from the first Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl’d, Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,

Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, And mad’st it pregnant: what in me is dark Visit’st the bottom of the monstrous world;

Illumine, what is low raise and support; Or whether thou to our moist vows deny'd,

That to the height of this great argument Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,

I may assert eternal providence, Where the great vision of the guarded mount And justify the ways of God to men. Looks tow'rd Namancos and Bayona's hold;

Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view, Look homeward angel now, and melt with ruth: Nor the deep tract of Hell, say first what cause And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. Mov’d our grand parents, in that happy state,

Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more; Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,

From their Creator, and transgress his will, Sunk tho' he be beneath the wat’ry floor;

For one restraint, lords of the world besides? So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,

Who first seduc'd them to that foul revolt? And yet anon repairs his drooping head,

Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceiv'd Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:

The mother of mankind, what time his pride So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, (waves, Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his host Through the dear might of him that walk'd the

Of rebel angels, by whose aid aspiring Where other groves and other streams along, To set himself in glory above his peers, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,

He trusted to have equall’d the Most High, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,

If he oppos'd ; and, with ambitious aim, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. Against the throne and monarchy of God There entertain him all the saints above,

Rais'd impious war in Heav'n and battle proud, In solemn troops and sweet societies,

With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power That sing, and singing in their glory move,

Hurl'd headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.

With hideous ruin and combustion, down Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; To bottomless perdition, there to dwell Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,

In adamantine chains and penal fire, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good

Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. To all that wander in that perilous flood.

Nine times the space that measures day and night Thus sang the unicouth swain to th’ oaks and rills;

To mortal men, he with his horrid crew While the still morn went out with sandals gray, Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf He touch'd the tender stops of various quills,

Confounded, though immortal : but his doom With eager thought warbling his Doric lay:

Reserv'd him to more wrath ; for now the thought And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills,

Both of lost happiness and lasting pain And now was dropt into the western bay;

Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes, At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue;

That witness'd huge affliction and dismay,
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.

Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
At once, as far as angels ken, he views

The dismal situation waste and wild;

A dungeon horrible on all sides round

As one great furnace flam'd, yet from those flames Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit

No light, but rather darkness visible Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste

Serv'd only to discover sights of woe, Brought death into the world, and all our woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,

That comes to all; but torture without end Sing heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top

Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire

With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd: That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, Such place eternal Justice had prepar'd In the beginning, how the Heav'ns and Earth For those rebellious, here their prison ordain'd Rose out of chaos : or if Sion hill

In utter darkness, and their portion set Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n


As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole.

Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host O how unlike the place from whence they fell! In horrible destruction laid thus low, There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm’d As far as gods and heavenly essences With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, Can perish: for the mind and spirit remain He soon discerns, and welt'ring by his side

Invincible, and vigour soon returns, One next himself in pow'r, and next in crime, Though all our glory extinct, and happy state Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd

Here swallow'd up in endless misery. Beelzebub. To whom th' arch-enemy,

But what if he our Conqu’ror (whom I now And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words Of force believe Almighty, since no less Breaking the horrid silence, thus began :

Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) If thou beest he; but O how fall'n! how chang'd Have left us this our spirit and strength entire From him, who, in the happy realms of light, Strongly to suffer and support our pains, Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst outshine That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, Or do him mightier service as his thralls United thoughts and counsels, equal hope

By right of war, whate'er his business be, And hazard in the glorious enterprise,

Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd

Or do his errands in the gloomy deep; In equal ruin: into what pit thou seest

What can it then avail, though yet we feel From what height fall'n, so much thestronger prov'd Strength undiminish’d, or eternal being He with his thunder: and till then who knew To undergo eternal punishment ? The force of those dire arms? yet not for those, Whereto with speedy words the arch-fiend reply'd: Nor what the potent victor in his rage

Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable,
Can else inflict, do I repent or change,

Doing or suffering: but of this be sure,
Though chang'd in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, To do aught good never will be our task,
And high disdain from sense of injur’d merit, But ever to do ill our sole delight,
That with the Mightiest rais’d me to contend, As being contrary to his high will
And to the fierce contention brought along

Whom we resist. If then his providence
Innumerable force of spirits arm'd,

Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring, Our labour must be to pervert that end, His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd And out of good still to find means of evil; In dubious battle on the plains of Heav'n,

Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps And shook bisthrone. What though the field be lost? Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb All is not lost; th' unconquerable will,

His inmost councils from their destin'd aim. And study of revenge, immortal hate,

But see the angry victor hath recallid And courage never to submit or yield,

His ministers of vengeance and pursuit And what else is not to be overcome !

Back to the gates of Heav'n: the sulph'rous hail That glory never shall his wrath or might

Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace

The fiery surge, that from the precipice With suppliant knee, and deify his power,

Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder, Who from the terror of this arm so late

Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, Doubted his empire; that were low indeed; Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now That were an ignominy, and shame beneath To bellow througlı the vast and boundless deep. This downfal; since by fate the strength of gods Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn, And this empyreal substance cannot fail,

Or satiate fury yield it from our foe. Since through experience of this great event Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, In arms not worse, in foresight much advanc'd, The seat of desolation, void of light, We may with more successful hope resolve

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames To wage by force or guile eternal war,

Casts pale and dreadful? thither let us tend Irreconcileable to our grand foe,

From off the tossing of these fiery waves; Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy

There rest, if any rest can harbour there, Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heav'n.

And re-assembling our afflicted powers, So spake the apostate angel, though in pain, Consult how we may henceforth most offend Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair; Our enemy, our own loss how repair, And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer: How overcome this dire calamity, O Prince! O Chief of many throned powers,

What reinforcement we may gain from hope, That led th' embattled seraphim to war

If not, what resolution from despair. Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds

Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, Fearless, endanger'd Heav'n's perpetual King, With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes And put to proof his high supremacy,

That sparkling blaz’d, his other parts besides Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate, Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Too well I see and rue the dire event,

Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge That with sad overthrow and foul defeat

As whom the fables name of monstrous size,


Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove, Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Briareus or Typhon, whom the den

Here we may reign secure, and, in my choice, By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast

To reign is worth ambition though in Hell: Leviathan, which God of all his works

Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav'n. Created hugest that swim the ocean stream: But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, Him haply slumb’ring on the Norway foam Th’associates and copartners of our loss, The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff, Lie thus astonish'd on th' oblivious pool, Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,

And call them not to share with us their part With fixed anchor in his scaly rind

In this unhappy mansion, or once more, Moors by his side under the lee, while night With rallied arms, to try what may be yet Invests the sea, and wished morn delays:

Regain’d in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell? So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence Thus answer’d: Leader of those armies bright, Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will Which but the Omnipotent none could have foil'd, And high permission of all-ruling Heaven

If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge Left him at large to his own dark designs,

Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
That with reiterated crimes he might

In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Heap on himself damnation, while he sought Of battle when it rag'd, in all assaults
Evil to others, and enrag'd might see

Their surest signal, they will soon resume
How all his malice serv'd but to bring forth New courage, and revive; though now they lie
Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn

Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, On Man by him seduc'd; but on himself

As we ere while, astounded and amaz'd; Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour’d. No wonder, fall’n such a pernicious height. Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool

He scarce had ceas’d, when the superior Fiend His mighty stature; on each hand the flames

Was moving tow'rd the shore; his pond'rous shield, Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale. [rollid Behind him cast; the broad circumference Then with expanded wings he steers his flight Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air

Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views That felt unusual weight, till on dry land

At evening from the top of Fesole, He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd

Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, With solid, as the lake with liquid fire ;

Rivers or mountains on her spotty globe. And such appear’d in hue, as when the force His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, Of subterranean wind transports a hill

Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side

Of some great admiral, were but a wand, Of thundering Ætna, whose combustible

He walk'd with to support uneasy steps And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire,

Over the burning marle, not like those steps Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds,

On Heaven's azure; and the torrid clime And leave a singed bottom all involv'd

Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire; With stench and smoke: such resting found the sole Nathless he so endur'd, till on the beach Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate, Of that iuflamed sea he stood, and call'd Both glorying to have scap'd the Stygian flood His legions, angel forms, who lay entranc'd As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength, Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks Not by the suff'rance of supernal Power.

In Vallombrosa, where th’ Etrurian shades Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,

High over-arch'd embow'r; or scatter'd sedge Said then the lost Arch-angel, this the seat

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful Hath vex'd the Red Sea coast, whose waves o'er. For that celestial light? Be it so, since he [gloom Busiris and his Memphian chivalry, (threw Who now is Sov'reign, can dispose and bid While with perfidious hatred they pursued What shall be right: farthest from him is best, The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld Whom reason hath equallid, force hath made su- From the safe shore their floating carcases Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields, (preme And broken chariot wheels: so thick bestrown, Where joy for ever dwells: Hail Horrors, hail Abject and lost lay these, covering the flood, Infernal World, and thou profoundest Hell

Under amazement of their hideous change. Receive thy new possessor; one who brings

He call'd su loud, that all the hollow deep A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.

Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates, The mind is its own place, and in itself

Warriors, the flow'r of Heav'n, once yours, now lost, Can make a heav'n of Hell, a hell of Heav'n.

If such astonishment as this can seize What matter where, if I be still the same,

Eternal spirits ; or have you chosen this place, And what I should be, all but less than he

After the toil of battle, to repose
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built To slumber here, as in the vales of Heav'n ?


Or in this abject posture have you sworn

Their altars by his altar, gods ador'd
To adore the Conqueror? who now beholds Among the nations round, and durst abide
Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood

Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, thron'd
With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon

Between the cherubim; yea often plac'd His swift pursuers from Heav'n gates discern Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, Th' advantage, and descending tread us down Abominations; and with cursed ngs Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts His holy rites and solemn feasts profan'd, Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf.

And with their darkness durst affront his light, Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen!

First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood They heard, and were abash’d; and up they sprung Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears, Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Their children's cries unheard, that pass'd through Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.

To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite (fire Nor did they not perceive the evil plight

Worshipp'd in Rabba and her wat’ry plain,
In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel; In Argob and in Basan, to the stream
Yet to their General's voice they soon obey'd, Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such
Innumerable. As when the potent rod

Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart
Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day,

Of Solomon he led by fraud to build War'd round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud His temple right against the temple of God Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind,

On that opprobrious hill, and made his grove That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence Like night, and darken’d all the land of Nile: And black Gehenna call’d, the type of Hell. So numberless were those bad angels seen,

Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab's sons, Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell,

From Aroar to Nebo, and the wild 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires; Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon Till, at a signal giv’n, th' uplifted spear

And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond
Of their great Sultan waving to direct

The flow'ry dale of Sibma, clad with vines,
Their course, in even balance down they light And Eleale to th’ Asphaltic pool.
On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain;

Peor his other name, when he entic'd
A multitude, like which the populous North

Israel in Sittim on their march from Nile Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass

To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. Rhene or the Danaw, when her barb'rous sons Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarg'd Came like a deluge on the South, and spread Ev'n to that bill of scandal, by the grove Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands.

Of Moloch homicide; lust hard by hate; Forthwith from every squadron and each band Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. The heads and leaders thither haste, where stood With these came they, who from the bord'ring flood Their great Commander; godlike shapes and forms Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts Excelling human, princely dignities,

Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names And powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones; Of Baalim and Astaroth, those male, Though of their names in heav'nly records now These feminine. For spirits, when they please, Be no memorial, blotted out and ras'd

Can either sex assume, or both; so soft By their rebellion from the books of Life.

And uncompounded is their essence pure, Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve

Not ty'd or manacI'd with joint or limb, Got them new names, till wand'ring o'er the earth, Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Through God's high suff'rance for the trial of man, Like cumb'rous flesh; but in what shape they choose, By falsities and lies the greatest part

Dilated or condens’d, bright or obscure, of mankind they corrupted to forsake

Can execute their airy purposes, God their Creator, and th' invisible

And works of love or enmity fulfil. Glory of him that made them to transform

For those the race of Israel oft forsook Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd

Their living strength, and unfrequented left With gay religions full of pomp and gold,

His righteous altar, bowing lowly down And devils to adore for deities;

To bestial gods; for which their heads as low Then were they known to men by various names, Bow'd down in battle, sunk before the spear And various idols through the heathen world. Of despicable foes. With these in troop Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who Came Ashtoreth, whom the Phænicians callid Rous’d from the slumber on that fiery couch, [last, Astarte, Queen of Heaven, with crescent horns; At their great Emp'ror's call, as next in worth To whose bright image nightly by the moon Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. In Sion also not unsung, where stood The chief were those who from the pit of Hell, Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, Their seats long after next the seat of God,

Beguil'd by fair idolatresses, fell

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