صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

This nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks,
With ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth, 55
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son

Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus nam'd,
Who ripe, and frolic of his full grown age,
Roving the Celtic and Iberian field,

At last betakes him to this ominous wood,

And in thick shelter of black shades imbower'd
Excels his mother at her mighty art,
Offering to every weary traveller
His orient liquor in a chrystal glass,

60

65

70

Toquench the drouth ofPhoebus, which as they taste,
(For most do taste through fond intemp'rate thirst)
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear,
Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were ;
And they, so perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
But boast themselves more comely than before, 75
And all their friends and native home forget,
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.
Therefore when any favor'd of high Jove
Chances to pass through this adventrous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star

I shoot from heav'n, to give him safe convoy,
As now I do but first I must put off
These my sky robes spun out of Iris woof,

80

85

And take the weeds and likeness of a swain,
That to the service of this house belongs,
Who with his soft-pipe, and smooth-dittied song,
Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar,
And hush the waving woods, nor of less faith,
And in this office of his mountain watch,
Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful steps. I must be viewless now.

90

COMUS enters with a charming rod in one hand, his glass in the other; with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel glistering; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in their hands.

COм. The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,

And the gilded ear of Day,

95

His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream,

And the slope Sun his upward beam
Shoots against the dusky pole,
Pacing toward the other goal
Of his chamber in the East.
Meanwhile welcome Joy and Feast,
Midnight Shout and Revelry,
Tipsy Dance, and Jollity.
Braid your locks with rosy twine,
Dropping odors, dropping wine.

100

105

1720

But favouring and assisting to the end.
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Let us go find the body where it lies
Sok'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream
With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off
The clotted gore. I with what speed the while
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay)

1725

Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 1730 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend

With silent obsequy and funeral train

1735

Home to his father's house: there will I build him
A monument, and plant it round with shade
Of laurel ever green, and branching palm,
With all his trophies hung, and acts inroll'd
In copious legend, or sweet lyric song.
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,
And from his memory inflame their breasts
To matchless valor, and adventures high:
The virgins also shall on feastful days
Visit his tomb with flow'rs, only bewailing
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,
From whence captivity and loss of eyes.

1740

CHOR. All is best, though we oft doubt 1745

What th' unsearchable dispose

Of highest Wisdom brings about,
And ever best found in the close.

Oft he seems to hide his face,

But unexpectedly returns,

And to his faithful champion hath in place

1750

Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns

And all that band them to resist

His uncontrollable intent;

His servants he with new acquist

Of true experience from this great event,
With peace and consolation hath dismist,
And calm of mind all passion spent.

The End of Samson Agonistes.

1755

Volume III.

N

PRESENTED AT LUDLOW-CASTLE, M. DC. XXXIV, BEFORE THE EARL OF BRIDGEWATER, THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES.

Eheu quid volui misero mihi! floribus austrum
Perditus-...

TO the Right Honourable

JOHN LORD VISCOUNT BRACKLY,

Son and Heir apparent to the Earl of Bridgewater, etc.

My Lord,

THIS Poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honour from your own person in the performance, now returns again to make a final dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknowledg'd by the Author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely, and so much desired, that the often copying of it hath tired my pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought me to a necessityofproducing it to the public view; and now to offer it up in all rightful devotion to those fair hopes, and rare endowments of your much promising youth, which give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live, sweet Lord, to be the honor of your name, and receive this as your own, from the hands of him who hath by many favors been long obliged to your most honored parents, and as in this representation your attendent Thyrsis, so now in all real expression,

Your faithful and most humble servant,
H. LAWES.

« السابقةمتابعة »