Agonistes." By JOHN MILTON. Με ESSENGER. Occasions drew me early to this And as the gates I enter'd with sun-rise, The building was a spacious theatre Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, The other side was op'n, where the throng I among these aloof obscurely stood. The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and wine, All with incredible, stupendious force, At length for intermission sake they led him I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, THE HE lady lay in her bed, But her sleep was restless and broken still; From side to side, she muttered and moaned, And tossed her arms aloft. At last she startled up, And gazed on the vacant air, With a look of awe, as if she saw Some dreadful phantom there And then in the pillow she buried her face From visions ill to bear. The very curtain shook, Her terror was so extreme; And the light that fell on the broidered quilt Kept a tremulous gleam; And her voice was hollow, and shook as she cried: "O, me! that awful dream! "That weary, weary walk, In the church-yard's dismal ground! And those horrible things, with shady wings, That came and flitted round, -- Death, death, and nothing but death, In every sight and sound! "And, O! those maidens young, Who wrought in that dreary room, With figures drooping and spectres thin, And cheeks without a bloom;— And the voice that cried, 'For the pomp of pride, We haste to an early tomb! "For the pomp and pleasure of pride, We toil like Afric slaves, And only to earn a home at last, Where yonder cypress waves;' And then they pointed-I never saw A ground so full of graves! "And still the coffins came, With their sorrowful trains and slow; Coffin after coffin still, A sad and sickening show; From grief exempt, I never had dreamt "Of the hearts that daily break, Disease, and Hunger, and Pain, and Want, "For the blind and the cripple were there, And the babe that pined for bread, And the houseless man, and the widow poor The naked, alas! that I might have clad, "The sorrow I might have soothed, For many a thronging shape was there, Ay, even the poor rejected Moor, Who raised my childish fears! "Each pleading look, that long ago I scanned with a heedless eye, Woe, woe for me if the past should be "No need of sulphureous lake, But only that crowd of human kind In everlasting retrospect Will wring my sinful soul! "Alas! I have walked through life Too heedless where I trod; Nay, helping to trample my fellow-worm, And fill the burial sod Forgetting that even the sparrow falls Not unmarked of God! "I drank the richest draughts; And ate whatever is good Fish, and flesh, and fowl, and fruit, But I never remembered the wretched ones "I dressed as the noble dress, In cloth of silver and gold, But I never remembered the naked limbs |