The Complete Poetry of John Milton (26 page)

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Authors: John Milton

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BOOK: The Complete Poetry of John Milton
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65

   65        
The highly favour’d
Joseph
bore

               
To him that serv’d for her before,

               
And at her next birth much like thee,

               
Through pangs fled to felicity,

               
Far within the boosom bright

70

   70        
Of blazing Majesty and Light;

               
There with thee, new welcom Saint,

               
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,

               
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,

               
No Marchioness, but now a Queen.

(
Apr. 1631
)

1
Jane, wife of John Paulet, the Marquis of Winchester (a Roman Catholic), died in childbirth, with her child, on Apr. 15, 1631, at the age of twenty-three. Her father was Thomas, Viscount of Rock-Savage, and through her mother, she was heir of Lord Darcy, Earl of Rivers.

2
Hymen; his “scarce-well-lighted flame” indicates brevity of marriage, and the “Cipress bud” the imminency of death. His torch was usually made from white hawthorn, signifying simultaneous joy and pain. Milton knew that the Paulets had been married in 1622, as ll. 15-23 in the manuscript version show (see
Textual Notes
).

3
Charles, later first Duke of Bolton, was born in 1629. The matrons of Rome held a festival called the Matralia on June 11, which celebrated childbirth.

4
goddess of childbirth.

5
the Fate who cut the thread of life.

6
the mountain haunt of the Muses. Poems were written by the students of Cambridge to accompany her hearse (ll. 55-58); among other tributes is one by Ben Jonson.

7
the river which flows by Cambridge.

8
Rachel, who died in childbirth of Benjamin; the story of her husband Jacob referred to here is found in Gen. xxix–xxxvii.

L’Allegro
1

               
Hence loathed Melancholy

    
             Of
Cerberus
,
2
and blackest midnight born,

               
In
Stygian
Cave forlorn

    
             ’Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy.

5

   5          
Find out som uncouth
3
cell,

    
             Wher brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings,

               
And the night-Raven sings;

    
             There under
Ebon
shades, and low-brow’d Rocks,

               
As ragged as thy Locks,

10

  10   
    
         In dark
Cimmerian
desert ever dwell.

               
But com thou Goddes fair and free,

               
In Heav’n yclept
4
Euphrosyne
,

               
And by men, heart-easing Mirth,

               
Whom lovely
Venus
at a birth

15

   15        
With two sister Graces more

               
To Ivy-crowned
Bacchus
bore;

               
Or whether (as som Sager
5
sing)

               
The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring,

               
Zephir
with
Aurora
playing,

20

   20        
As he met her once a-Maying,

               
There on Beds of Violets blew,

               
And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew,

               
Fill’d her with thee a daughter fair,

               
So bucksom, blith, and debonair.

25

   25        
Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee

               
Jest and youthful Jollity,

               
Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,

               
Nods, and Becks, and Wreathed Smiles,

               
Such as hang on
Hebe
’s
6
cheek,

30

   30        
And love to live in dimple sleek;

               
Sport that wrincled Care derides,

               
And Laughter holding both his sides.

               
Com, and trip it as ye go

               
On the light fantastick toe,

35

   35        
And in thy right hand lead with thee

               
The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;

               
And if I give thee honour due,

               
Mirth, admit me of thy crew

               
To live with her, and live with thee,

40

   40        
In unreproved pleasures free;

               
To hear the Lark begin his flight,

               
And singing startle the dull night,

               
From his watch-towr in the skies,

               
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;

45

   45        
Then to com in spight of sorrow,

               
And at my window bid good morrow

               
Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine,

               
Or the twisted Eglantine.

               
While the Cock with lively din

50

   50        
Scatters the rear of darknes thin,

               
And to the stack, or the Barn dore,

               
Stoutly struts his Dames before,

               
Oft list’ning how the Hounds and horn,

               
Chearly rouse the slumbring morn,

55

   55        
From the side of som Hoar
7
Hill,

               
Through the high wood echoing shrill.

               
Som time walking not unseen
8

               
By Hedge-row Elms, or Hillocks green,

               
Right against the Eastern gate,

60

   60        
Wher the great Sun begins his state,
9

               
Rob’d in flames, and Amber light,

               
The clouds in thousand Liveries dight,

               
While the Plowman neer at hand

               
Whistles o’re the Furrow’d Land,

65

   65        
And the Milkmaid singeth blithe,

               
And the Mower whets his sithe,

               
And every Shepherd tells his tale

               
Under the Hawthorn in the dale.

               
Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures

70

   70        
Whilst the Lantskip round it measures

               
Russet Lawns, and Fallows gray,

               
Where the nibling flocks do stray,

               
Mountains on whose barren brest

               
The labouring clouds do often rest:

75

   75        
Meadows trim with Daisies pide,
10

               
Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.

               
Towers, and Battlements it sees

               
Boosom’d high in tufted Trees,

               
Wher perhaps som beauty lies,

80

   80        
The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes.

               
Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes,

               
From betwixt two aged Oaks,

               
Where
Corydon
and
Thyrsis
11
met

               
Are at their savory dinner set

85

   85        
Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes,

               
Which the neat-handed
Phillis
dresses;

               
And then in haste her Bowr she leaves,

               
With
Thestylis
to bind the Sheaves;

               
Or if the earlier season lead

90

   90        
To the tann’d Haycock in the Mead,

               
Som times with secure
12
delight

               
The up-land Hamlets will invite,

               
When the merry Bells ring round,

               
And the jocond rebecks sound

95

   95        
To many a youth, and many a maid,

               
Dancing in the Chequer’d shade;

               
And young and old com forth to play

               
On a Sunshine Holyday,

               
Till the live-long day-light fail,

100

   100     
Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,

               
With stories told of many a feat,

               
How
Faery Mab
the junkets eat;

               
She
13
was pincht, and pull’d she sed,

               
And he by Friars Lanthorn
14
led

105

   105     
Tells how the drudging
Goblin
swet,

               
To earn his Cream-bowl duly set,

               
When in one night, ere glimps of morn,

               
His shadowy Flail hath thresh’d the Corn

               
That ten day-labourers could not end,

110

   110     
Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend,

               
And stretch’d out all the Chimney’s length,

               
Basks at the fire his hairy strength;

               
And Crop-full out of dores he flings,

               
Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.

115

   115     
Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,

               
By whispering Winds soon lull’d asleep.

               
Towred Cities please us then,

               
And the busie humm of men,

               
Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,

120

   120     
In weeds of Peace high triumphs
15
hold,

               
With store of Ladies, whose bright eies

               
Rain influence, and judge the prise

               
Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend

               
To win her Grace, whom all commend.

125

   125     
There let
Hymen
16
oft appear

               
In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,

               
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,

               
With mask, and antique Pageantry,

               
Such sights as youthfull Poets dream

130

   130     
On Summer eeves by haunted stream.

               
Then to the well-trod stage anon,

               
If
Jonsons
learned Sock
17
be on,

               
Or sweetest
Shakespear
fancies
18
child,

               
Warble his native Wood-notes wild,

135

   135     
And ever against eating Cares,

               
Lap me in soft
Lydian
Aires,

               
Married to immortal verse

               
Such as the meeting soul may pierce

               
In notes, with many a winding bout

140

   140     
Of linked sweetnes long drawn out,

               
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,

               
The melting voice through mazes running;

               
Untwisting all the chains that tie

               
The hidden soul of harmony.

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