?

Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe.

"Ah! Who hath reft (qoth he) my dearest pledge?" Last came, and last did go,

The pilot1 of the Galilean lake;

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain),

He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake:
"How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain,
Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold?
Of other care they little reckoning make,
Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast,

And shove away the worthy bidden guest;

Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least
That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!

What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;
And when they list, their lean and flashy songs

Grate on their scrannel2 pipes of wretched straw;
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread :
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
Daily devours apace, and nothing sed :3
But that two-handed engine at the door
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more."
Return, Alpheus, 5 the dread voice is past,
That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse,
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast
Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use

'The pilot:' Peter. Scrannel:' screeching.-3Sed:' old spelling for said.—' 'Two-handed engine:' the sword with the two edges issuing out of Christ's mouth. Alpheus:' the Sicilian Muse of Theocritus and others.

Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,
On whose fresh lap the swart-star1 sparely looks;
Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes,

That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet,
The glowing violet,

The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears :
Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies.
For, so to interpose a little ease,

Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise;
Ay me! Whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl❜d,
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,

Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide,
Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;
Or whether thou, to our moist 2 vows denied,
Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus 3 old,
Where the great Vision of the guarded Mount4
Looks towards Namancos5 and Bayona's hold;

เ

Moist:' wet with tears. 3 Bellerus:' a

1 'Swart-star:' dog-star. Cornish giant. The guarded Mount:' Mount St Michael; not far from the Land's end in Cornwall, whence at low water it is accessible. The guarded mount, says Mr Warton, is simply the fortified mount;* and the great vision is the famous apparition of the Archangel Michael, who is said to have appeared on the top of the mount, and to have directed a church to be built there. -Namancos,' or Numantia: a town of Old Castile, once highly celebrated in the Spanish history.

Is it not the Archangel rather than the fortress, who guards the mount?

Look homeward, Angel,1 now, and melt with ruth :
And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more,
For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,

Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,

And yet anon repairs his drooping head,

And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:

So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,

Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the wayes;

Where, other groves, and other streams along,

With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
There entertain him all the saints above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
That sing, and, singing, in their glory move,
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more;
Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore,
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood.

Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills,
While the still morn went out with sandals gray;
He touch'd the tender stops of various quills,
With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay:
And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills,
And now was dropt into the western bay:
At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue:
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

16 Angel:' Michael, namely.

L'ALLEGRO.1

HENCE, loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell,

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings;

There under ebon shades and low-brow'd rocks,

As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.

But come, thou goddess fair and free,
In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And by Men, heart-easing Mirth;
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
With two sister Graces 2 more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Or whether (as some sager sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a-Maying;
There on beds of violets blue,

And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,

Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,

So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee

Jest, and youthful Jollity,

''L'Allegro:' i. e., The Cheerful Man.- Two sister Graces:' meat and

drink.

Quips,1 and Cranks,2 and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimples sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it, as you go,
On the light fantastick toe;

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,
In unreproved3 pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled 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 :4
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of Darkness thin;
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dame before:
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Some time walking, not unseen,

By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,

1'Quips: repartees.- Cranks: ' cross-purposes.-3 Unreproved :' i. e., innocent.Twisted eglantine: the honeysuckle.