HENCE, vain deluding joys,
The brood of folly without father bred, How little you bestead,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys! Dwell in some idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, Or likest hovering dreams
The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy, Hail divinest Melancholy,
Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight,
And therefore to our weaker view
O'erlaid with black, staid wisdom's hue;
Black, but such as in esteem
Prince Memnon's sister might beseem,
Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove
To set her beauty's praise above
The Sea-Nymphs, and their pow'rs offended: Yet thou art higher far descended;
18 too bright] Hor. Od. i. xix. 8. 'Nimium lubricus aspici.'
19 Ethiop] 'Noctem Ethiopissam.' Miltoni Prolus. p. 73.
Thee bright-hair'd Vesta, long of yore, To solitary Saturn bore;
His daughter she (in Saturn's reign, Such mixture was not held a stain). Oft in glimmering bow'rs and glades He met her, and in secret shades Of woody Ida's inmost grove, While yet there was no fear of Jove. Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, Sober, steadfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain, Flowing with majestic train, And sable stole of cyprus
lawn, 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 oft with Gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring
Aye round about Jove's altar sing:
35 cyprus] Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 3.
'Cyprus black as e'er was crow.' Warton.
87 keep] 'State in wonted manner keep.'
And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation; And the mute Silence hist along, 'Less Philomel will deign a song, In her sweetest, saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of night, While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, Gently o'er th' accustom'd oak;
Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy!
Thee, chauntress, 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 heav'n's wide pathless way; And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Stooping through a fleecy cloud. Oft on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfew sound,
58 Smoothing Shakesp. Sonnets, 51. 59 checks] Todd's Milton, vol. vi. p. 323.
63 Riding] Eurip. Suppl. 994. iππεvovoi di' õp¶raç.
Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed 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 tow'r, Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, 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 those Demons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose hath a true consent With planet, or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
75 wide-water'd] Constable's Son. Ellis's Spec. ii.
'Or like the echo of a passing bell,
Which, sounding on the water, seems to howl.'
98 Sceptred] Miltoni Eleg. i. 37.
'Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragoedia sceptrum
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine,
Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage. 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 left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass, And of the wondrous 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 turneys and of trophies hung, Of forests, and inchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear. Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, Till civil-suited morn appear,
Not trick'd and frounc'd as she was wont With the Attic boy to hunt,
110 Cambuscan] In the Squier's Tale of Chaucer, see Tyr whitt's notes, vol. ii. p. 466, ed. 1798. Todd.
122 civil] Rom. and Juliet, act iii. sc. 2.
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black.' 10
« PreviousContinue » |