The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems (6 page)

II

Only with speeches fair

She woos the gentle air

To hide her guilty front
¹²³
with innocent snow,

And on her naked shame,

Pollute
¹²⁴
with sinful blame,

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw,

Confounded
¹²⁵
that her Maker’s eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

III

But he, her fears to cease,

Sent down the meek-eyed Peace.

She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding

Down through the turning sphere,

His ready harbinger,
¹²⁶

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing,

And waving wide her myrtle wand

She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

IV

No war or battle’s sound

Was heard the world around.

The idle spear and shield were high up hung,

The hookèd
¹²⁷
chariot stood

Unstained with hostile blood,

The trumpet spoke not to the armèd throng,

And kings sat still, with awful
¹²⁸
eye,

As if they surely knew their sov’reign Lord was by.

V

But peaceful was the night

Wherein the Prince of Light

His reign of peace upon the earth began.

The winds, with wonder whist,
¹²⁹

Smoothly the waters kissed,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
¹³⁰

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave.

VI

The stars with deep amaze

Stand fixed in steadfast gaze,

Bending one way their precious influence,

And will not take their flight,

For all the morning light,

Or Lucifer
¹³¹
that often warned them thence,

But in their glimmering orbs did glow,

Until their Lord himself bespoke, and bid them go.

VII

And though the shady gloom

Had given day her room,
¹³²

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed,

And hid his head for shame,

As
¹³³
his inferior flame

The new-enlightened world no more should need;

He saw a greater sun appear

Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear.

VIII

The shepherds on the lawn,

Or ere the point
¹³⁴
of dawn,

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row.

Full little thought they then

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below.

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

Was all that did their silly
¹³⁵
thoughts so busy keep.

IX

When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet,

As never was by mortal finger struck,

Divinely-warbled voice

Answering the stringèd noise

As all their souls in blissful rapture took.
¹³⁶

The air such pleasure loath to lose

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close.
¹³⁷

X

Nature that heard such sound

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia’s
¹³⁸
seat, the airy region thrilling,

Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling.

She knew such harmony alone

Could hold all Heav’n and earth in happier union.

XI

At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light,

That with long beams the shame-faced night arrayed.
¹³⁹

The helmèd Cherubim

And swordèd Seraphim

Are seen in glittering ranks, with wings displayed,

Harping in loud and solemn choir,

With unexpressive
¹⁴⁰
notes to Heav’n’s new-born heir.

XII

Such music (as ’tis said)

Before was never made

But when of old the sons of morning sung,

While the Creator great

His constellations set,

And the well-balanced world on hinges hung,

And cast the dark foundations deep,

And bid the weltering
¹⁴¹
waves their oozy channel keep.

XIII

Ring out, ye crystal spheres,

Once bless our human ears

(If ye have power to touch our senses so),

And let your silver chime

Move in melodious time,

And let the bass of Heav’n’s deep organ blow,

And with your ninefold harmony

Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.

XIV

For if such holy song

Enwrap our fancy long,

Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold,

And speckled
¹⁴²
vanity

Will sicken soon, and die,

And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,

And Hell itself will pass away,

And leave her dolorous
¹⁴³
mansions
¹⁴⁴
to the peering day.

XV

Yea, Truth and Justice then

Will down return to men,

Orbed in a rainbow; and like
¹⁴⁵
glories wearing

Mercy will sit between,

Throned in celestial sheen,

With radiant feet the tissued
¹⁴⁶
clouds down steering,

And Heav’n, as at some festival,

Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall.

XVI

But wisest Fate says no,

This must not yet be so,

The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy

That on the bitter cross

Must redeem our loss,

So both himself and us to glorify.

Yet first to those ychained in sleep

The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep

XVII

With such a horrid clang

As on Mount Sinai rang

While the red fire and smoldering clouds out-break.

The aged earth aghast

With terror of that blast

Shall from the surface to the center shake;

When at the world’s last session
¹⁴⁷

The dreadful
¹⁴⁸
Judge in middle air shall spread His throne,

XVIII

And then at last our bliss

Full and perfect is—

But now begins, for from this happy day

Th’ old dragon under ground

In straiter
¹⁴⁹
limits bound

Not half so far casts his usurpèd sway,

And wroth
¹⁵⁰
to see his kingdom fail

Swinges
¹⁵¹
the scaly horror of his folded tail.

XIX

The oracles are dumb;

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the archèd roof in words deceiving.

Apollo from his shrine

Can no more divine,
¹⁵²

With hollow shriek the steep
¹⁵³
of Delphos leaving.

No nightly trance or breathèd spell

Inspires
¹⁵⁴
the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

XX

The lonely mountains o’er,

And the resounding shore,

A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament.

From haunted spring and dale

Edged with poplar pale
¹⁵⁵

The parting genius
¹⁵⁶
is with sighing sent.

With flower-inwoven tresses torn

The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.

XXI

In consecrated earth,

And on the holy hearth,

The lars and lemures
¹⁵⁷
moan with midnight plaint.