Read The Annotated Milton: Complete English Poems Online
Authors: John Milton,Burton Raffel
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Literary Collections, #Poetry, #Classics, #English; Irish; Scottish; Welsh, #English poetry
Gently o’er th’ accustomed oak—
Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
Thee, chantress,
575
oft the woods among,
I woo
576
to hear thy even song,
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry, smooth-shaven
577
green,
To behold the wand’ring moon
Riding near her highest noon
Like one that had been led astray
Through the Heav’ns’ wide pathless way,
And oft, as if her head she bowed,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a plat
578
of rising ground
I hear the far-off curfew sound
Over some wide-watered shore,
Swinging slow with sullen
579
roar.
Or if the air will not permit,
Some still
580
removèd
581
place will fit,
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
582
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,
Or the bellman’s
583
drowsy charm
584
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Or let my lamp, at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely tow’r
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
585
With thrice great Hermes,
586
or unsphere
The spirit of Plato
587
to unfold
588
What worlds, or what vast regions, hold
The immortal mind that hath forsook
Her mansion
589
in this fleshly nook,
590
And of those daemons
591
that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
592
With planet, or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous
593
tragedy
In sceptered
594
pall
595
come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes’,
596
or Pelops’ line,
597
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskined
598
stage.
But, O sad virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musaeus
599
from his bower,
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto’s cheek
And made Hell grant what love did seek.
Or call up him
600
that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
601
And who had Canace to wife,
That owned the virtuous ring and glass,
And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wondrous horse of brass
On which the Tartar king did ride.
And if ought else, great bards beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung
Of tourneys,
602
and of trophies hung,
Of forests, and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
603
Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
604
Till civil-suited
605
morn appear,
Not tricked
606
and frounced,
607
as she was wont
With the Attic boy
608
to hunt,
But kerchiefed in a comely cloud
While rocking winds are piping loud,
Or ushered with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves,
With minute drops from off the eaves.
And when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring
To archèd walks of twilight groves
And shadows brown that Sylvan
609
loves
Of pine, or monumental oak,
Where the rude
610
ax, with heavèd
611
stroke,
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt
Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
612
There in close covert,
613
by some brook,
Where no profaner
614
eye may look,
Hide me from day’s garish
615
eye,
While the bee, with honeyed thigh,
That at her flow’ry work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring
With such consort
616
as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings, in airy stream
Of lively portraiture displayed,
Softly on my eye-lids laid.
And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or th’ unseen genius
617
of the wood.
But let my due
618
feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters’ pale
619
And love the high embowèd
620
roof,
With antic pillars massy
621
-proof,
And storied
622
windows richly dight,
623
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing
624
organ blow
To the full voiced choir below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies
And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell
Where I may sit and rightly spell
625
Of every star that Heav’n doth shew,
626
And every herb that sips the dew,
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
ARCADES
1633–34?
Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess
Dowager of Darby, at Harefield, by some noble persons of
her family, who appear on the scene in pastoral habit,
moving toward the seat of state, with this song:
1. Song
Look, nymphs, and shepherds, look!
What sudden blaze of majesty
Is that which we from hence descry,
627
Too divine to be mistook.
This, this is she
To whom our vows and wishes bend:
Here our solemn search hath end.
Fame, that her high worth to raise
Seemed erst so lavish and profuse,
We may justly now accuse
Of detraction from her praise.
Less than half we find expressed:
Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state she spreads
In circle round her shining throne,
Shooting her beams like silver threads!
This, this is she alone,
Sitting like a goddess bright
In the center of her light.
Might she the wise Latona
628
be,
Or the towered Cybele,
629
Mother of a hundred gods?
Juno dares not give her odds.
630
Who had thought this clime had held
A deity so unparall’ed?
As they come forward, the Genius of the Wood appears
and, turning toward them, says:
I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes.
Of famous Arcady
633
ye are, and sprung
Of that renownèd flood
634
so often sung,
Divine Alphéus, who by secret sluice
Stole under seas, to meet his Arethuse.
635
And ye the breathing roses of the wood,
Fair silver-buskined
636
nymphs as great and good,
I know this quest of yours, and free
637
intent,
Was all in honor and devotion meant
To the great mistress of yon princely shrine,
Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,
And with all helpful service will comply
To further this night’s glad solemnity,