The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems (11 page)

That
⁴⁰³
even to his last breath (there be that say’t)

As
⁴⁰⁴
he were pressed to death,
⁴⁰⁵
he cried, “More weight!”

But had his doings lasted as they were

He had been an immortal carrier.
⁴⁰⁶

Obedient to the moon, he spent his date
⁴⁰⁷

In course reciprocal,
⁴⁰⁸
and had his fate

Linked to the mutual flowing of the seas,

Yet (strange to think) his wain
⁴⁰⁹
was his increase.

His letters are delivered all and gone,

Only remains this superscription.
⁴¹⁰

AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER

1631

This rich marble doth inter
⁴¹¹

The honored wife of Winchester,
⁴¹²

A Viscount’s daughter,
⁴¹³
an Earl’s heir,
⁴¹⁴

Besides what her virtues fair

Added to her noble birth,

More than she could own from earth.

Summers three times eight save one

She had told
⁴¹⁵
—alas, too soon,

And so short time of breath,

To house
⁴¹⁶
with darkness and with death.

Yet had the number of her days

Been as complete as was her praise,

Nature and Fate had had no strife

In giving limit to her life.

Her high birth and her graces sweet

Quickly found a lover meet;
⁴¹⁷

The virgin choir for her request

The god that sits at marriage feast.
⁴¹⁸

He at their invoking came

But with a scarce well-lighted flame,
⁴¹⁹

And in his garland as he stood

Ye might discern a cypress bud.
⁴²⁰

Once had the early matrons run

To greet her of a lovely son,
⁴²¹

And now with second hope she goes,

And calls Lucina
⁴²²
to her throes.
⁴²³

But whether by mischance or blame

Atropos
⁴²⁴
for Lucina came,

And with remorseless cruelty

Spoiled at once both fruit and tree:

The hapless babe before his birth

Had burial, yet not laid in earth,

And the languished mother’s womb

Was not long a living tomb.
⁴²⁵

So have I seen some tender slip
⁴²⁶

Saved with care from winter’s nip,

The pride of her carnation train,
⁴²⁷

Plucked up by some unheedy
⁴²⁸
swain
⁴²⁹

Who only thought to crop
⁴³⁰
the flower

New shot up from vernal
⁴³¹
shower.

But the fair blossom hangs the head

Sideways as on a dying bed,

And those pearls of dew she wears

Prove to be presaging
⁴³²
tears

Which the sad morn had let fall

On her hastening funeral.

Gentle lady, may thy grave

Peace and quiet ever have.

After this, thy travail sore,

Sweet rest seize thee evermore,

That to give the world increase

Shortened hast thy own life’s lease.

Here besides the sorrowing

That thy noble house doth bring,

Here be tears of perfect moan

Wept for thee in Helicon,
⁴³³

And some flowers and some bays
⁴³⁴

For thy hearse to strew the ways,
⁴³⁵

Sent thee from the banks of Came,
⁴³⁶

Devoted to thy virtuous name,

Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitt’st in glory,

Next her much like to thee in story,

That fair Syrian shepherdess
⁴³⁷

Who after years of barrenness

The highly-favored Joseph bore

To him that served for her before,
⁴³⁸

And at her next birth, much like thee,

Through pangs fled to felicity,
⁴³⁹

Far within the bosom bright

Of blazing Majesty and Light.

There with thee, new-welcome Saint,

Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,

With thee there clad in radiant sheen,

No Marchioness, but now a Queen.

L’ALLEGRO
⁴⁴⁰

1631?

Hence, loathèd melancholy,

Of Cerberus
⁴⁴¹
and blackest midnight born,

In Stygian
⁴⁴²
cave forlorn

Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy!

Find out some uncouth
⁴⁴³
cell
⁴⁴⁴

Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings,

And the night-raven sings.

There under ebon shades and low-browed
⁴⁴⁵
rocks

As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian
⁴⁴⁶
desert ever dwell.

But come thou, goddess fair and free,

In Heaven yclept
⁴⁴⁷
Euphrosyne,
⁴⁴⁸

And by men heart-easing mirth,

Whom lovely Venus at a birth

With two sister Graces more

To ivy-crownèd Bacchus bore—

Or whether (as some, sager, sing)

The frolic wind that breathes
⁴⁴⁹
the spring,

Zephyr with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a-Maying,

There on beds of violets blue

And fresh-blown roses washed in dew,

Filled her with thee, a daughter fair,

So buxom,
⁴⁵⁰
blithe,
⁴⁵¹
and debonair.
⁴⁵²

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee

Jest and youthful jollity,

Quips and cranks,
⁴⁵³
and wanton wiles,
⁴⁵⁴

Nods, and becks,
⁴⁵⁵
and wreathèd smiles

Such as hang on Hebe’s
⁴⁵⁶
cheek

And love to live in dimple sleek,

Sport
⁴⁵⁷
that wrinkled care derides,

And laughter, holding both its sides.

Come, and trip it as ye go

On the light-fantastic toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee

The mountain nymph, sweet liberty.

And if I give thee honor due,

Mirth, admit me of thy crew

To live with her, and live with thee,

In unreprovèd
⁴⁵⁸
pleasures free,

To hear the lark begin his flight

And, singing, startle the dull
⁴⁵⁹
night

From his watch-tower in the skies,

Till the dappled
⁴⁶⁰
dawn doth rise,

Then to come, in spite 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,

Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
⁴⁶¹

And to the stack
⁴⁶²
or the barn door

Stoutly
⁴⁶³
fierce struts his dames before.
⁴⁶⁴

Oft listening how the hounds and horn

Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn

From the side of some hoar
⁴⁶⁵
hill,

Through the high wood echoing shrill.

Sometime walking not unseen
⁴⁶⁶

By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green,

Right against the eastern gate

Where the great
⁴⁶⁷
sun begins his state,
⁴⁶⁸

Robed in flames and amber light,

The clouds in thousand liveries
⁴⁶⁹
dight,
⁴⁷⁰

While the ploughman, near at hand,

Whistles o’er the furrowed land,