 Milton's Minor Poems. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Thomas Copeland. Front Matter Part 1. Preface by the Reverend H. C. Beeching, MA. This edition of Milton's poetry is a reprint, as careful as editor and printers have been able to make it, from the earliest printed copies of the several poems. First, the 1645 volume of the Minor Poems has been printed entire. Then, follow in order the poems added in the reissue of 1673. The Paradise Lost, from the edition of 1667, and the Paradise Regained on Samson Egonistes, from the edition of 1671. The most interesting portion of the book must be reckoned the first section of it, which reproduces for the first time the scarce small octavo of 1645. The only reprint of the Minor Poems in the old spellings, as far as I know, is the one edited by Mitford. But that followed the edition of 1673, which is comparatively uninteresting, since it could not have had Milton's oversight as it passed through the press. We know that it was set up from a copy of the 1645 edition, because it reproduces some pointless eccentricities, such as the varying form of the chorus in Psalm 136. But while it corrects the errata tabulated in that edition, it commits many more blunders of its own. It is valuable, however, as the aditio print caps of ten of the sonnets, and it contains one important alteration in the ode on the nativity. This and all other alterations will be found noted where they occur. I have not thought it necessary to note mere differences of spelling between the two editions, but a word may find place here upon their general character. Generally, it may be said that where the two editions differ, the later spelling is that now in use. Thus, words like goddess, darkness, usually written in the first edition with one final S, have two, while on the other hand words like vernal, youthful, and monosyllables like hug, far, lose their double letter. Many monosyllables, for example, sum, s-o-m, course, c-o-u-r-s, glimpse, g-l-i-n-p-s, where, w-h-e-r, verse, v-e-r-s, a-a-w, else, e-l-s, dun, d-o-n, i, e-y, li, l-y. So written in 1645, taken in 1673, and e-mute, while words like harp, h-a-r-p-e, wins, w-i-n-d-e-s, only, o-n-e-l-y, lose it. By a reciprocal change, air, a-y-r, and cypress, c-i-p-r-e-s-s become air, a-i-r, and cypress, c-y-p-r-e-s-s. And the vowels in Dane, d-a-i-g-n, veil, v-a-i-l, near, n-e-e-r, belive, b-e-l-e-e-v-e, shield, s-h-e-i-l-d, bosom, b-o-o-s-o-m, even, e-e-v-e-n, battle, b-a-t-t-a-i-l, traveler, t-r-a-v-a-i-l-e-r, and many other words are similarly modernized. On the other hand, there are a few cases where the 1645 edition exhibits the spelling which has succeeded in fixing itself as travail, 1673, travel, in the sense of labor, and robed, r-o-b-d, profane, p-r-o-p-h-a-n-e, human, h-u-m-a-n-e, flood, f-l-o-u-d, and bloody, b-l-o-u-d-y, forest, f-o-r-r-e-s-t, triple, t-r-i-p-p-l-e, alas, a-l-a-s-s, and huddling, h-u-d-l-i-n-g. Indeed, the spelling in this later edition is not untouched by 17th century inconsistency. It retains here and there forms like shameless with one s, caterous with one s, where 1645 reads caterous with two s's, and occasionally reverts to the older-fashioned spelling of monosyllables without the mute e. In the epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester it reads, quote, and some, s-o-m, flowers and some bays, s-o-m-e, but undoubtedly the impression on the whole is of a much more modern text. In the matter of small or capital letters I have followed the old copy, except in one or two places where a personification seemed not plainly enough marked to a modern reader without a capital. Thus in Il Penceroso, line 49, I print leisure, l-e-a-s-u-r-e with a capital L, although both editions read leisure with a small l, and in the Vacation Exercise, line 71, times with a capital T for times with a small t. Also, where the employment or omission of a capital is plainly due to misprinting, as too frequently in the 1673 edition, I silently make the correction. Examples are notes with a small n for notes with a capital, in sonnet 17, line 13, anointed with a capital A for anointed with a small a, in son 2, line 12. In regard to punctuation, I have followed the old printers, except in obvious misprints, and followed them also as far as possible in their distribution of Roman and Italic type and in the grouping of words and lines in the various titles. To follow them exactly was impossible, as the books are so very different in size. At this point, the candid reader may perhaps ask what advantages gained by presenting these poems to modern readers in the dress of a bygone age. If the question were put to me, I should probably evade it, by pointing out that Mr. Froud is issuing an edition based upon this, in which the spelling is frankly that of today. But if the question were pressed, I think a sufficient answer might be found. To begin with, I should point out that even Professor Masson, who in his excellent edition argues the point and decides in favor of modern spelling, allows that there are peculiarities of Milton's spelling which are really significant and ought therefore to be noted or preserved, but who is to determine exactly which words are spelled according to the poet's own instructions and which according to the printer's whim. It is notorious that in Paradise Lost, some words were spelled upon a deliberate system, and it may very well happen that in the volume of minor poems, which the poet saw through the press in 1645, there were spellings no less systematic. Professor Masson makes a great point of the fact that Milton's own spelling, exhibited in the autographed manuscript of some of the minor poems preserved in Trinity College, Cambridge, does not correspond with that of the printed copy. Note, this manuscript, invaluable to all students of Milton, has lately been facsimileed under the superintendence of Dr. Aldous Wright and published at the Cambridge University Press. This is certainly true, as the reader may see for himself by comparing the passage from the manuscript given in the appendix with the corresponding place in the text. Milton's own spelling revels in redundant ease, while the printer of the 1645 book is very sparing of them. But in cases where the spelling affects the meter, we find that the printed text in Milton's manuscript closely correspond, and it is upon its value in determining the meter quite as much as its antiquarian interest that I should base the justification of this reprint. Take, for instance, such a line as the 11th of Comus, which Professor Masson gives us as, amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. A reader not learned in Miltonic rhythms will certainly read this, amongst the enthroned gods. But the 1645 edition reads, amongst the enthroned gods, and so does Milton's manuscript. Again, in line 597, Professor Masson reads, it shall be an eternal restless change self-fed and self-consumed if this fail the pillared firmament as rotteness, etc. But the 1645 text and Milton's manuscript read self-consumed M apostrophe D, after which word there is to be understood a metrical pause to mark the violent transition of the thought. Self-fed and self-consumed if this fail. Again, in the second line of the sonnet to a nightingale, Professor Masson has, warblest at eve when all the woods are still. But the early edition, which probably follows Milton's spelling, though in this case we have no manuscript to compare, reads warblest, B-L apostrophe S-T. So the original text of Samson, line 670, has tempersed to E-M-P-E-R apostrophe S-T. The retention of the old system of punctuation may be less defensible, but I have retained it because it may now and then be of use in determining a point of syntax. The absence of a comma, for example, after the word hearse in the 58th line of the epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester printed by Professor Masson thus, and some flowers and some bays for thy hearse to strew the ways, no comma after bays. But in the 1645 edition, and some flowers and some bays for thy hearse to strew the ways with a comma after bays, goes to prove that four here must be taken as apostrophe for before. Of the Paradise Lost, there were two editions issued during Milton's lifetime, and while the first has been taken as our text, all the variants in the second, not being simple misprints, have been recorded in the notes. In one respect, however, in the distribution of the poem into 12 books instead of 10, it has seemed best for the sake of practical convenience to follow the second edition. A word may be allowed here on the famous correction among the errata prefixed to this edition. Lib 2, verse 414, for we, w-e, read we, w-e-e. This correction shows not only that Milton had theories about spelling, but also that he found means that his sight was gone to ascertain whether his rules had been carried out by his printer, and in itself, this fact justifies the facsimile reprint. What the principle in the use of the double vowel actually was, and it is found to affect other monosyllabic pronouns, it is not so easy to discover, though roughly it is clear the reduplication was intended to mark emphasis. For example, in the speech of the Divine Son after the battle in heaven, book 6, lines 8, 10 to 8, 17, the pronouns which the voice would naturally emphasize are spelled with the double vowel. Stand only and behold God's indignation on these godless poured by me. Not you, but me, they have despised, yet envied, against me is all their rage, because the Father, whom in heaven supreme kingdom and power and glory appertains, hath honoured me according to his will. Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned. Honoured me, M-E, to me M-E-E, their doom he hath assigned. In the Son's speech offering himself as redeemer, book 3, lines 227 to 249, where the pronoun all through is markedly emphasized, it is printed me with two E's the first four times and afterwards me with one E. But it is noticeable that these first four times the emphatic word does not stand in the stressed place of the verse so that a careless reader might not emphasize it unless his attention were specially led by some such sign. Behold me then, me for him, life for life I offer, on me let thine anger fall, account me man. In the hymn of creation, book 5, lines 160 to 209, where E occurs, Y-E, 14 times, the emphasis and the metric stress six times out of seven coincide and the pronoun is spelled Y-Y-E-E, where it is unemphatic and in an unstressed place it is spelled Y with one E. Two lines are especially instructive. Speak ye who best can tell ye sons of light. Speak ye two E's ye sons of light one E. Line 160 and fountains and ye that warble as ye flow, melodious murmurs warbling tune his praise, fountains and ye two E's as ye flow one E. Line 195. In book 5, line 694, it marks as the voice by its emphasis would mark in reading a change of subject. So spake the false archangel and infused bad influence into the unwary breast of his associate, the associate. Together calls, etc. An examination of other passages, where there is no antithesis, goes to show that the length and form of the pronoun is most frequent before a pause, as book 7, line 95, or at the end of a line, book 1, lines 245 and 257, or when a foot is inverted, book 5, line 133, or when as object it precedes its verb, book 5, line 612, book 7, line 747, or as subject follows it, book 9, line 1109, book 10, line 4. But as we might expect under circumstances where a purist could not correct his own proofs, there are not a few inconsistencies. There does not seem, for example, any special emphasis in the second we of the following passage, freely we serve, because we freely love, as in our will to love or not. In this we stand or fall, the second we, because we freely love, as two Es. Book 5, line 538. On the other hand, in the passage, book 3, line 41, in which the poet speaks of his own blindness, thus with the year, seasons return, but not to me returns day, et cetera, where if anywhere we should expect me with two Es, we do not find it, though it occurs in the speech eight lines below. It should be added that this differentiation of the pronoun is not found in any printed poem of Milton's before Paradise Lost, nor is it found in the Cambridge Autograph. In that manuscript, the constant forms are me with one E, we with two Es, ye with two Es. There is one place where there is a difference in the spelling of she, and it is just possible that this may not be due to accident. In the first verse of the song in Arcades, the manuscript reads, this, this is she, S-H-E-E. And in the third verse, this, this is she alone, she with one E. This use of the double vowel is found a few times in Paradise Regained. In book 2, line 259, and book 4, lines 486 and 497, where me, E, begins a line, and in book 4, line 638, where he, with two Es, is especially emphatic in the concluding lines of the poem. In Samsonic Anesthes, it is more frequent. For example, lines 124, 178, 193, 220, 252, 290 and 1125. Another word the spelling of which in Paradise Lost will be observed to vary is the pronoun there, which is spelled sometimes there, T-H-I-R. The spelling in the Cambridge manuscript is uniformly T-H-I-R-E, except once when it is T-H-I-R. And where there T-H-I-R occurs once in the writing of an Emanuensis, the E is struck through. That the difference is not merely a printer's device to accommodate his line, may be seen by a comparison of lines 338 and 363 in the first book, where the shorter word comes in the shorter line. It is probable that the lighter form of the word was intended to be used when it was quite unemphatic. Contrast, for example, in book 3, line 59, his own works and their works at once to view with line 113, the maker and the making and their fate. T-H-E-I-R in the first quotation, T-H-I-R three times in the second quotation. But the use is not consistent, and the form there is not found at all till the 349th line of the first book. The distinction is kept up in the Paradise regained its absent agonisties, but if possible with even less consistency. Such passages, however, as Paradise regained 3, 414 to 440, Samson agonisties 880 to 890 are certainly spelt upon a method, and it is noticeable that in the choruses the lighter form is universal. Paradise regained in Samson agonisties were published in 1671, and no further addition was called for in the remaining three years of the poet's lifetime, so that in the case of these poems there are no new readings to record, and the texts were so carefully revised that only one fault Paradise regained book 2, 9309 was left for correction later. In these and the other poems I have corrected the misprints cataloged in the Tables of Arata, and I have silently corrected any other unless it might be mistaken for a various reading when I have called attention to it in a note. Thus I have not recorded such blunders as Lethean for Lesbian in the 1645 text of Lisetus, 963, or Hallow for Hallow in Paradise Lost, book 6, 9484, but I have noted content for consent in Atasalla Music, line 6. In conclusion, I have to offer my sincere thanks to all who have collaborated with me in preparing this edition and the delegates of the Oxford Press for allowing me to undertake it and decorate it with so many facsimiles to the controller of the press for his unfailing courtesy to the printers and printers' reader for their care and pains. Coming nearer home, I cannot but acknowledge the help I have received in looking over proof sheets from my sister, Mrs. P.A. Barnett, who has ungrudgingly put at the service of this book both time and eyesight. In taking leave of it, I may be permitted to say that it has cost more of both these inestimable treasures than I had anticipated. The last proof reaches me just a year after the first, and the progress of the work has not in the interval been interrupted. In Tannouilabor, at Tannouis Gloria. Nevertheless, I cannot be sorry it was undertaken. H.C.B. Yet and on Rectory, November 8, 1899. End of Preface. End of Front Matter Part 1. Front Matter Part 2 to Milton's Minor Poems. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, reporting by Thomas Copeland. Transcriber's Note. A facsimile of title page of 1645 edition follows. Poems of Mr. John Milton, both English and Latin, composed at several times, printed by his true copies. The songs were set in music by Mr. Henry Laws, Gentleman of the King's Chapel, and one of his Majesty's private music. The car affront him Kingate Neuvoque Nokia Malalingua Futuro. Virgil, Agog 7. Printed and published according to order, London, printed by Ruth Rayworth for Humphrey Mosley. And it will be sold at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Church Art, 1645. Transcriber's Note. Facsimile of title page of 1673 edition follows. Poems, etc., upon several occasions, by Mr. John Milton, both English and Latin, etc., composed at several times, with a small tractate of education to Mr. Hartley. London. St. Paul, Thomas Dring, at the Blue Anchor next Mitre Court over against Vetter Lane in Fleet Street, 1673. The Stationer to the Reader. It is not any private respect of gain, Gentle Reader, for the slightest pamphlet is nowadays more vendible than the works of learned as men, but it is the love I have to our own language that is worth such pieces, both in prose and verse, as may renew the wanted honour and esteem of our tongue. And it is the worth of these, both English and Latin poems, not the flourish of any prefixed encomians that can invite thee to buy them, though these are not without the highest commendations and applause of the learned academics, both domestic and foreign. And amongst those of our own of that renowned provost of Eaton, Sir Henry Wooden, I know not thy pallet how it relishes such deities, nor how harmonious thy soul is, perhaps more trivial theirs may please thee better. But how soever thy opinion is spent upon these, that encouragement I have already received from the most ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Waller's late choice into the world presenting it with these evergreen and not-to-be-blasted laurels. The author's more peculiar excellency in these studies was too well known to conceal his papers or to keep me from attempting to solicit them from him. Let the event guide itself which way it will. I shall deserve of the age by bringing into the light as true of birth as the muses have brought forth since poems in these English ones are as rarely imitated as sweetly excelled. Reader, if thou art eagle-eyed to censure their worth, I am not fearful to expose them to thy exactest perusal. Thine to command come frimosely. End of Front Matter Part II On the morning of Christ's Nativity by John Milton, composed 1629, this recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland. This is the month and this the happy mourn wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King of wedded maid and virgin mother born, our great redemption from above did bring. For so the Holy Sages once did sing that he, our deadly forfeit, should release and with his father work us of perpetual peace. That glorious form, that light unsufferable and that far-beaming blaze of majesty wherewith he want at Heaven's high council table to sit the midst of trinal unity, he laid aside and here with us to be forsook the courts of everlasting day, and chose with us a dark some house of mortal clay. Say, heavenly muse, shall not thy sacred vein afford a present to the infant God? As thou no verse no hymn or solemn strain to welcome him to this his new abode, now while the Heaven by the Son's team untrod hath took no print of the approaching light, and all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright. See how from far upon the eastern road the star-led beast with odour sweet. O run, prevent them with thy humble ode, and lay it lowly at his blessed feet. Have thou the honour first, thy Lord, to greet, and join thy voice unto the angel choir from out his secret altar, touched with hallowed fire. The hymn. It was the winter wild, while the Heaven-born child all meanly wrapped in the rude manger-lies. Nature, in all to him, hath doff'd her gaudy trim, with her great master so to sympathize. It was no season then for her to wanton with the sun her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair she woo'd the gentle air to hide her guilty front with innocent snow, and on her naked shame pollute with sinful blame the saintly veil of maiden white to throw, confounded that her maker's eyes should look so near upon her foul deformities. But he, her fears to cease, sent down the meek-eyed peace. She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding down to the turning sphere, his ready harbinger, with turtle wing, the amorous clouds dividing, and waving wide her myrtle wand she strikes a universal peace through sea and land. No war or battle-sound was heard the world around. The idle spear and shield were high up hung. The hookered chariot stood unstained with hostile blood. The trumpet spake not to the arm and throng, and kings sat still with awful eye as if they surely knew what sovereign lord was by. But peaceful was the night wherein the prince of light his reign of peace upon the earth began. The winds with wonder whisked smoothly the waters kissed, whispering new joys to the mild ocean who now had quite forgot to rave, while birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed way. The stars with deeper maze stand fixed in steadfast gaze, bending one way their precious influence, and will not take their flight for all the morning light or lucifer that often warned them thems. But in their glimmering orbs did glow until the lord himself bespake and bid them go. And though the shady gloom at given day her room, the sun himself held his wanted speed and hid his head for shame as his inferior flame the new enlightened world no more should need, he saw a greater sun appear than his bright throne or burning axeltree could bear. The shepherds on the lawn or ere the point of dawn sate simply chatting in a rustic row, who little thought they then that the mighty pan was kindly come to live though. Perhaps their loves or else their sheep was all that did their silly thought so busy keep. When such music sweet their hearts and ears did greet as never was by mortal finger struck, divinely warped voice answering the string of noise as all their souls in blissful rapture took. The air such pleasure loath to lose with thousand souls still prolongs each heavenly close. Nature that heard such sound beneath the hollow round of synthious seat, the airy region thrilling, now was almost one to think her part was done and that her reign had here its last fulfilling. She knew such harmony alone could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. At last surrounds their sight a globe of circular light that with long beams the shame faced knight arrayed. The helmet cherubim and sworded seraphim are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, harping in loud and solemn choir with unexpressive notes to heaven's newborn air. Such music as to said before was never made but when of old the sons 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 waves their oozy channel keyed. Ring out he crystal spheres once bless our human ears, if you have power to touch our senses so and let your silver chime move in melodious time and let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow and with your ninefold harmony make up full consort to the angelic symphony. Oh if such holy song and wrap our fancy long time will run back and fetch the age of gold and speckled vanity will sicken soon and die and leprous sin will melt from earthly mode and self will pass away and leave her dolerous mansions to the peering day. Yea, truth and justice then will down return to men the nammeled hours of the rainbow wearing and mercy set between thrown in celestial sheen with radiant feet the tissue clouds down steering and heaven as at some festival will open wide the gates of her high palace hall 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 achained in sleep the wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep clang as on mount Sinai rang while the red fire and smoldering clouds outbreak the aged earth with terror of that blast shall from the surface to the center shake when at the world's last session the dreadful judge in middle air shall spread his throne and then at last our bliss full and perfect is but now begins for from this happy day though dragon underground in straighter limits bound not half so far casts his usurp at sway and Roth to see his kingdom fail swinges the scaly horror of his folded tale the oracles are done no voice or hideous hum runs through the archered roof leaving Apollo from his shrine can no more divine with hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving no nightly trance or breathed spell inspires the paleide priest from the prophetic cell the lonely mountains or and the resounding shore a voice of weeping heard and loud lament from haunted spring and the parting genius is with sighing sent with flower in woven tresses torn the nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn in consecrated earth and on the holy earth the lars and lembers moan with midnight plaint in urns and altars round a drear and dying sound affrights the flamens at their reverse quaint and the chill marble seems to sweat while each peculiar power foregoes his wanted seat peor and bail him forsake their temples din with that twice battered god of Palestine and mooned asteroth heaven's queen and mother both now sits not girt with tapers holy shine shrinks his horn in vain the Tyrion maids their wounded Thamuz mourn and sullen molok fled hath left in shadows dread his burning idol all of blackest you in vain with cymbals ring they call the grizzly king in dismal dance about the furnace blue and brutish gods of Nile as fast Isis and Horus and the dog anubis haste nor is Osiris seen in memphian grove or green trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud nor can he be at rest within his sacred chest not but profound as hell can be his shroud in vain with timbrel anthems dark the sable-stolid sorcerers bear his worship dark the dreaded infant's hand the rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eye nor all the gods beside longer derebide not typhon huge ending in snakey twine our babe to show his godhead true can in his swaddling bands control the damnate crew so when the sun in bed curtained with cloudy red pillows his chin upon orient way the flocking shadows pale troop to the infernal jail each fettered ghost slips to his several grave and the yellow-skirted phase fly after the night steeds leaving their mood-loved maze but see the virgin blessed hath laid her babe to rest time is out tedious song should hear have been heaven's youngest timid star hath fixed her polished car her sleeping lord with hand-made lap attending and all about the courtly stable bright-harnessed angels sit in order serviceable end of On the Morning of Christ Nativity The Passion by John Milton This Libra Vox Recording is in the public domain Airwhile of music and ethereal mirth wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring and joyous news of heavenly infant's birth by muse with angels to divide to sing that headlong joy is ever on the wing in wintry solstice like the shortened light soon swallowed up in dark and long-out living night for now to sorrow must I tune my song and set my harp to notes of saddest woe which on our dearest lord did seize air long dangers and snares and wrongs and worse than so which he for us did freely undergo most perfect hero tried in heaviest plight of labor's huge and hard too hard for human white he sovereign priest stooping his regal head that dropped with odorous oil down his bare eyes poor fleshly tabernacle entered his starry front low-roofed beneath the skies oh what a mask was there what a disguise yet more the stroke of death he must abide then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side these latter scenes confine my roving verse to this horizon is my fevis bound his godlike acts and his temptations, fears and former sufferings other where are found loud o'er the rest Cremolus trump doth sound me softer airs befit and softer strings of lute or vile still more act for mournful things befriend me night best patroness of grief over the pole thy thickest mantlethrow and work my flattered fancy to believe that heaven and earth are coloured with my wool my sorrows are too dark for day to know the leaves should all be black were on my right and letters where my tears washed a warnish white see the chariot and those rushing wheels that whirled the prophet up at Kibar flood my spirit some transporting cherub fields to bear me where the towers of Salem stood once glorious towers now sunk in guiltless blood there doth my soul in holy vision sit in pensive trance and anguish and ecstatic fit mine I hath found that sad sepulchral rock that was the casket of heaven's richest store and here though grief my feeble hands up lock get on the soften quarry would I score my plaining verses lively as before for sure so well instructed on my tears they would fitly fall in ordered characters I hence hurried on viewless wing take up a weeping on the mountain's wild the gentle neighborhood of Grove and Spring would soon unboozle all their echos mild and I for grief is easily beguiled might think the infection of my sorrows bound had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud note this subject the author finding to be years he had but he wrote it and nothing satisfied with what was begun left it unfinished end of the passion on time by John Milton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland fly in this time till thou run out thy race call on the lazy leadin stepping hours whose speed is but the heavy plummet space and glut thyself with what thy wound devours which is no more than what is false and vain and merely mortal dross so little is our loss so little is thy gain for when as each thing bad thou hast entombed and last of all thy greedy self consumed then long eternity shall greet our bliss with an individual kiss and joy shall overtake us as a flood when everything that is sincerely good and perfectly divine with truth and peace and love shall ever shine about the supreme throne of him who's happy making sight alone when once our heavenly guided soul shall climb then all this earthly grossness quit attired with stars we shall forever sit time thing over death and chance the oh time note see the appendix for the manuscript version end of on time upon the circumcision by John Milton this Liber Vox recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland e-flaming powers and winged warriors bright that erst with music and triumphant song first heard by happy watchful shepherds here so sweetly sung your joy the clouds along through the soft silence of the listening night now mourn and of sad share with us to bear your fiery essence can distill no tear burn in your sighs and borrow seas wet from our deep sorrow he who with all heavens heraldry while air entered the world now bleeds to give us ease alas how soon our sin soared to begin his infancy to seize oh more exceeding love or law more just just law indeed but more exceeding love for we by rightful doom remederless were lost in death till he that dwelt above high thrown in secret bliss for us frail dust emptied his glory even to nakedness and that great covenant which we still transgress entirely satisfied and the full wrath beside a vengeful justice bore for our excess and seals obedience first with wounding smart this day but oh ere long huge pangs and strong will pierce more near his heart at the end of upon the circumcision at a solemn music by John Milton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland blessed pair of sirens pledges of heaven's joy fear-born harmonious sisters voice and verse wedu divine sounds and mixed power employ dead things with inbreaths and to our high raised fantasy present that undisturbed song of pure content I sung before the sapphire colored throne to him that sits thereon with saintly shout and solemn jubilee where the bright seraphim in burning row their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow and the cherubic host in thousand choirs touch their immortal harps of golden wires with those just spirits that wear victorious palms hymns devout and holy psalms singing everlastingly that we on earth with undescorting voice may rightly answer that melodious noise as once we did till disproportion sin jarred against nature's chime and with harsh din that all creatures made a lord whose love their motions swayed in perfect diapason whilst they stood in first obedience and their state of good O may we soon again renew that song and keep in tune with heaven till God ere long to his celestial consort us unite to live with him and sing an endless mourn of light note six content manuscript reads consent as does the second edition so that content is probably a misprint end of Atta-Sollan music an appetar upon the Martianess of Winchester by John Milton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland this rich marble doth enter the honored wife of Winchester a vicount's daughter an earl's heir besides what her virtues fair added to her noble birth more than she could own from earth summers three times eight save one she had told alas too soon after so short time of breath to house with darkness and with death yet had the number of her days been as complete as was her praise nature and fate had had no strife in giving limit to her life her high berth and a grace's sweet quickly found a lover meet the virgin choir for her request the god that sits at marriage feast he, at their invoking came but with a scarce well-lighted flame and in his garland as he stood you might discern a cypress bud once had the early matrons run to greet her of a lovely son and now with second hope she goes and calls Lucina to a throes but whether by mischance or blame atropos for Lucina came and with remorseless cruelty spoiled at once both fruit and tree the hapless babe before his birth had burial yet not laid in earth and the languished mother's womb was not long the living tomb so have I seen some tender slip saved with care from winter's nip the pride of her carnation train plucked up by some unheedy swain who only thought to crop the flower new shot up from vernal shower but the fair blossom hangs the head sideways as on a dying bed and those pearls of dew she wears proved to be presaging tears which the sad mourn had let fall on her hastening gentle lady may thy grave peace and quiet ever have after this thy travel saw sweet rest sees thee evermore that to give the world increase shortened hast thy own lives lease here besides the sorrowing that thy noble house doth bring here be tears of perfect moan wept for thee and some flowers and some bays for thy hearst is through the ways sent thee from the banks of Cain devoted to thy virtuous name whilst thou bright saint high sits in glory next her much light to thee in story that fair Syrian shepherdess who after years of barrenness the highly favoured Joseph bore to him that served for her before and that her next birth much like thee through pangs fled to felicity far within the bosom bright of blazing majesty and light there with thee new welcome saint like fortunes may her soul equate with thee there clad in radiant sheen no martianess but now a queen end of an epitaph song on may morning by John Milton this livery box recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland now the bright morning star days harbinger comes dancing from the east and leads with her the flowery may who for her green lap throws the yellow cow slip and the pale primrose hail bountious may the dust inspire mirth and warm desire woods and groves are of thy dressing hail and jailed at boast thy blessing thus we salute thee with our early song and welcome thee and wish thee long end of song on may morning on Shakespeare 1630 by John Milton this livery box recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland what needs my Shakespeare for his honour bones the labour of an age in pilot stones or that his hallowed relics should be hid under a star appointing pyramid dear son of memory great heir of fame what needs thou such weak witness of thy name thou in our wonder and astonishment hast built thyself a live long monument for whilst to the shame and suffering art thy easy numbers flow and that each heart hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book those delphic lines with deep impression took then thou our fancy of itself bereaving dost make us marvel with too much conceiving and so's a pulker in such pomp dost lie that kings for such a tomb would wish to die notes on Shakespeare reprinted 1632 in the second folio Shakespeare title an epitaph on the admirable dramatic poet W. Shakespeare line one needs need six week dull eight live long lasting ten part part thirteen it her end of on Shakespeare on the university carrier who sickened in the time of his vacancy being forbid to go to London by reason of the plague by John Milton this libra box recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland here lies old Hubson death hath broke his gert and here last hath laid him in the dirt or else the ways being foul twenty to one he's here stuck in a slew and overthrown was such a shifter that a truth were known death was half glad when he had got him down for he had any timeless ten years full dodged with him bedwicks Cambridge in the bull and surely death could never have prevailed had not his weekly course of carriage failed but lately finding him so long at home and thinking now his journey's end was come and that he had tain up his latest vision in the kind office of a chamberlain showed him his room where he must lodge that night pulled off his boots and took away the light if any ask for him it shall be said Hubson has sucked and is newly gone to bed end of on the university carrier another on the same this libra box recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland here lies one who did most truly prove that he could never die while he could move so hung his destiny never to rot while he might still jog on and keep his trot made of sphere metal never to decay until his revolution was at stay time numbers motion yet without a crime against old truth motion numbered out his time and like an engine moved with wheel weight his principles being seized he ended straight rest that gives all men life gave him his death and too much breathing put him out of breath nor were it contradiction to affirm too long vacation hastened on his turn merely to drive away the time he's sick and fainted and died nor would with a ill be quick nae quilfe on the swimming bed outstretched for may not carry sure I'll ne'er be fetched but vow though the cross doctors all stood hearers for one carrier put down to make six bearers ease was his chief disease and to judge right he died for heaviness that his cart went light his leisure told him that his time was come and lack of load made his life burdensome that even to his last breath that be that said as he were pressed to death he cried more weight but had his doings lasted as they were he had been an immortal carrier obedient to the moon he spent his date in horse reciprocal and had his fate linked to the mutual flowing of the seas yet strange to think his wane was his increase his letters are delivered all and gone only remains this superscripts end of another on the same the legroom by John Milton this liver box recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland and slow that melancholy of Cerberus and blackest midnight born in Stygian cave for long amongst horrid shapes and shrieks and nights unholy find out some uncouth cell where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings and the night raven sings there under ebb and shades and low-browed rocks as ragged as thy locks in dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell but come thou goddess fair and free in heaven eclept you frozany in heart easing mirth whom lovely Venus at a birth with two sister graces more to Ivy crowned Boccus bore or whether as some sages sing the frolic wind that breathes the spring zephyr with a roar of playing as he met her once amaying there on beds of violets blue and fresh blown roses washed in dew filled her with thee daughter fair so buxom'd lithe and debonair hasty nymph and bring with thee jest and youthful jollity quips and cranks and wanton wiles nods and becks and wreathed smiles such as hang on heebie's cheek and love to live in dimple sleep sport that wrinkled care derides and laughter holding heads come and trip it as you go on the light fantastic toe and in thy right hand lead with thee the mountain nymph sweet liberty and if I give the honored you mirth admit me of thy crew to live with her and live with thee in unrecruited pleasures free do hear the lark begin his flight and singing startle the dull night watchtower 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 eglentine where the cock with lively din scatters the rear of darkness thin and to the stack or the barn door stoutless struts his dames before how the hounds and horn cheerly rouse the slumbering morn from the side of some whore hill through the high wood echoing shrill sometime walking not unseen by hedgerow elms on hillock's green right against the eastern gate where the great sun begins his state robed in flames and amber light the clouds in thousand livery's diet while the ploughman the shepherd at hand whistles or the furrowed land and the milkmaid singeth blithe and the mower wets his scythe and every shepherd tells his tale under the hawthorn in the dale straight mine I have got new pleasures past the landscape rounded meshes russet lawns and fallows gray where the nibbling flocks do stray mountains on whose barren breast the laboring clouds do often rest meadows trim with daisies pied shallow brooks and rivers wide towers and battlements it sees who's and I in tufted trees where perhaps some beauty lies the sinoshure of neighboring eyes hard by a cottage chimney smokes from betwixt to aged oaks where Corridon and Thersis met are at their savoury dinner set of herbs and other country messes which the neat-handed phyllis dresses and then in haste her power she leaves with thestilis to bind the sheaves or if the earlier season lead to the tent haycock in the meet sometimes with secure delight the upland handlets will invite when the merry bells ring round and the jock and rebecks sound to many a youth and many a maid dancing in the checkered shade and young and old come forth to play on a sunshine holiday till the live long daylight fail then to the spicy nut brown ale with stories told of many a feat how fairy mad the junk it's at she was pinched and pulled she said and he by fryer's land horn lead tells how the judging goblin sweat to earn his cream bold newly set when in one night a glimpse of mourn his shadowy flail have threshed the corn that ten day laborers would not end then lies him down the lower fend and stretched out all the chimney's length basks at the fire his hair his strength and crock full out of doors he flings ere the first cock his mat and reins thus done the tales to bear decree by whispering win soon lovelessly towered cities please us then and the busy hum of men with wrongs of knights and barons bold in weeds of peace high triumphs old with store of ladies whose bright eyes rain influence and judge the prize of wit or arms while both contend to win her grace the men there let hymen often appear in saffron robe with taper clear and pomp and feast and revelry with mask and antique pageantry such sights as youthful poets dream on summer eaves by haunted stream then to the well trod stage and on if johnson's learned sock beyond or sweetest Shakespeare fancies child warble his native wood notes while and ever against eating cares lap me and soft lydian airs married to immortal verse such as the meeting soul may pierce in notes with many a winding bout of linkered sweetness long drawn out with wanton heed and giddy cunning the melting voice through mazes running untwisting all chains that tie the hidden soul of harmony the orpheus self may heave his head from golden slumber on a bed of heap delusion flowers and hear such strains as would have won the ear of pluton to have quite said free his half regained heritacy these delights of valkenstgill mirth with thee I mean to live notes 933 ye you in 1673 line 104 and he by and by the 1673 end of Lelebro il pensoroso by John Milton this libra box recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copeland hence vain deluding joys the brood of folly without father bread how little you bested or fill the mind with all your toys well in some idle brain and fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess as thick and numberless as the game moats that people the sunbeams or like us hovering dreams the fickle pensioners of morpheus trade but hail thou goddess sage and holy hailed of vinus melancholy whose saintly visage is too bright to hit the sense of human sight and therefore to our weaker view or laid with black staid wisdom's hue black but such as in a steam Prince Memnon's sister might be seen or that stardieth your queen that strove to set her beauty's praise above the sea nymphs and their powers offended yet thou at higher far descended the bright haired Vesta long of yore to solitary saturn poor his daughter she in saturn's reign such mixture was not held to stain oft in glimmering bowers and glades he met her and in secret shades of woody idas in most grove while yet there was no fear of joe come pensive nun devout and pure sober steadfast and amure all in a robe of darkest grain flowing with majestic train and sable stole of cypress lawn over thy decent shoulders drawn come but keep thy wanted state with even step and musing gait and looks comersing with the skies thy rapt souls sitting in thine eyes there held in holy passion still forget thyself to marble till with a sad leaven downward cast thou fix them on the earth as fast and join with thee calm peace and quiet spare fast stuth diet and hears the muses in a ring eye round about joe's altar sing and add to these retired leisure that in trim gardens takes his pleasure at first and chiefest with thee bring him that yawn sores on golden wing guiding the fiery wheeled throne the cherub contemplatio and the mute silence hissed along lest Philomel will dain a song in her sweetest saddest plight smoothing the rugged brow of night while Cynthia checks her dragon yolk gently or the customed oak sweet bird that shuns the noise of folly most musical most melancholy thee entress off to the woods among my wound to hear thy even song and missing thee I walk unseen on the dry smooth shaven green to behold the wandering moon riding near her highest noon like one that had been led astray through the heavens wide pathless way and off is her head she bowed stooping through a icy cloud off done a plat of rising ground I hear the far off curfew sound over some wide watered shore swinging slow with sullen roll or if the air will not permit some still remove it place will fit where glowing embers through the room teach light to counterfeit a gloom far from all resort of mirth save the cricket on the earth or the bellman's drowsy charm to bless the doors from nightly arm or let my lamp at midnight hour be seen in some high lonely tower where I may oft out watch the bear with rice great Hermes or unsphere the spirit of Plato to unfold what words or what vast regions hold the immortal mind that hath forsook her mansion in this fleshly known and of those demons that are found in fire, air flood or underground whose power have a true consent with planet or with element sometime let gorgeous tragedy and septic Paul comes sweeping by presenting thieves or pilops line or the tale of Troy divine or what though rare later age ennobled hath the buskin stage but oh sad virgin that thy power might raise museus from his bower or bid the soul of Orpheus sing such notes as warble to the string drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek and made hell grant what love did see or call up him that left half told the story of of Campbell and of Algarcife and who had chemistry 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 art else great bards beside in sage and solemn tunes of sung of turnies and of trophies hung of forests and enchantments drear where more is meant than meets the hear thus night oft see me in thy pale career till civil suited mourn appear nor tripped and frouched as she was one with the attic bore to hunt but kerchiefed in a comely cloud while rocking winds are piping loud or ushered with a shower still when the gust had 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 arched walks of twilight groves and shadows brown that silver loves of pine or monumental oak where the rude axe with heaved stroke was never heard the nymphs to daunt or fright them from their hallowed haunt there in close covered by some brook where no profaner I may look hide me from day's garish eye while the bee with honeyed thigh that at her flowery work doth sing and the waters murmuring with such consort as they keep entice the dewy feathered sleep and let some strange mysterious dream wave at his wings in airy stream of lively portraitures laid softly on my eyelids laid and as I wake sweet music breathed above about or underneath sent by some spirit to mortal scourge for the unseen genius of the rude but let my dew feet never fail to walk the studious cloisters pale and love the high emboured roof with antique mirrors massy proof and storied windows richly dite casting a dim religious light there let the peeling organ blow to the full voiced choir below in service high and anthems clear as may with sweetness through my ear dissolve me into ecstasies and bring all heaven before my and may at last my weary age find out the peaceful hermitage the hairy gown and the mossy cell where I may sit and rightly spell of every star that heaven doth shoo and every herb that sips the dew till old experience to attain to something like prophetic strain these pleasures melancholy give and I with thee will choose to live end of ill pencil of so the English Sonnets from the 1545 edition by John Melton this Libra Vox recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland one O nightingale that on yawn blew me spray warble steady when all the woods are still thou with fresh hope the lovers heart still by the jolly hours lead on propitious may thy liquid notes that close the eye of day first heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill for ten success in lull O if joves will have linked that amorous power to thy soft play now timely sing ere the rude bird of hate foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh too late for my relief it had no reason why whether the muse or love call thee his mate both them I serve and of their train am I seven how soon hath time the subtle thief of youth stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year my hasting days fly on with full career but my late spring God do blossom truth perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth that I to manhood am arrived so near and inward ripeness doth much less appear that some more timely happy spirits in youth yet be it less or more or soon or slow it shall be still in strictest measure even to that same lot how it will mean or high toward which time it will be and the will of heaven all is if I have grace to use it as ever in my great task master's eye eight captain or coronal or knight in arms whose chance on these defenseless doors may seize if ever deed of honour did thee please guard them and him within protect from harms he can requite thee he knows the charms that call fame on such gentle acts as these and he can spread thy name or lands and seas whatever climb the sun's bright circle warms lift not thy spear against the muses power the great immatheon conqueror bid spare the house of pindarus when temple and tower went to the ground and the repeated air of sad electros poet had the power to save the walls from ruin bare notes Cambridge autograph supplies title when the assault was intended to the city line three if deed of honour did thee ever please in 1633 nine lady that in the prime of earliest youth wisely hath shunned the broadway and the green and with those few art eminently seen that the hill of heavenly truth the better part with Mary and with Ruth chosen now hast and they that overween and that thy growing virtues fret their spleen no anger find in thee but pity and Ruth a care is fixed and zealously attends to fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light and hope that weeps not shame therefore be sure now when the bridegroom with his feastful friends passes to bliss at the mid hour of night hast gain thy entrance virgin wise and pure note five with Ruth the Ruth 1645 ten daughter to that good earl once president of England's council and her treasurer who lived in both unstained with gold or fee and left them both more in himself contempt till the sad breaking of that parliament broke him as that dishonest victory at Caronea fatal to liberty killed with report that old man eloquent though later born than to have known the days wherein your father flourished yet by you madam it thinks I see him living yet all your words his noble virtuous praise that all both judge you to relate them true and to possess them on to Margaret note Cambridge autographs supplies title to the lady Margaret Lee end of the English summits from the 1545 edition Arkadis by John Milton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain reporting by Thomas Copeland Arkadis part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Derby 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 one song look nymphs and shepherds look what sudden blaze of majesty is that which we from hence describe to divine to be mistook this this is she to whom our vows and wishes bend here our solemn search have 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 will 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 be or the towered sibling mother of a hundred gods Juno dares not give her odds who had thought this climate held a deity so parallel as they come forward the genius of the wood appears and turning toward them speaks genius stay gentle swings although in this disguise I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes a famous arcady he are and sprung of that renown and flood so often sung divine alpheus who by secret use stole under seas to meet his are a few and ye the breathing roses of the wood silver buskin nymphs as great and good I know this quest of yours and free intent was all in honor and devotion meant to the great mistress of yarn princely shrine whom with low reverence I adore as mine and with all helpful service will comply to further this night's glad solemnity and lead you where ye may more near behold what shallow searching fame has left untold which I full off amidst these shades alone have sate to wonder at and gaze upon for know by lot from joe I am the power of this fair wood and live in oaken bower to nurse the saplings tall and curl the grove with its quaint and wanton windings woe and all my plants I save from nightly ill of noisome winds and blasting vapors chill and from the bows brush off the evil dew and heal the harms of thwarting thunder bloom or with the cross die looking planets smites or hurtful worm with canker venom bites when evening grade of rise I fetch my round with the mountain all this hallowed ground and early ere the odorous breath of mourn awakes the slumbering leaves for tassled horn shakes the high thicket haste I all about number my ranks and visit every sprout with quiescent words and murmurs made to bless but else in deep of night when drowsiness hath locked up mortal sense then listen I to the harmony that sit upon the nine and folded spheres and sing to those that hold the vital shears and turn the adamantine spindle round on which the fate of gods and men is found such sweet compulsion doth in music lie to lull the daughters of necessity and keep unsteady nature to her law and the low world in measured motion draw after the heavenly tune none can hear of human mode with gross unpurged ear and yet such music worthest were to blaze the peerless height of her immortal praise whose lustre leads us and for her most fit if my inferior hand or voice could hit inimitable sounds yet as we go what air the skill of lesser gods can show I will assay her worth to celebrate and so attendee toward her glittering state where ye may all that are noble stem approach and kiss her sacred vesture's hem to song o'er the smooth enameled green where no print of step hath been follow me as I sing and touch the walled string under the shady rufa branching elm star proof follow me I will bring you where she sits clad in splendor as befits her deity such a rural queen all Arcadia hath not seen three song nymphs and shepherds dance no more by sandy ladon's lily banks on old lyceus or salini whore trip no more in twilight ranks though erinath your loss deplore a better soil shall give you thanks from the stony menalus bring your flots and live with us here ye shall have greater grace to serve the lady of this place though sirens your pans mistress were yet sirens well might wait on her such a rural queen all Arcadia hath not seen note twenty-two hundred Milton's own spelling here is hundred but in the erratic paradise lost book one, line seven sixty he corrects hundred to hundred end of Arcadies this recording is in the public domain Lysidas by John Milton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain transcribers note facsimile of title page of Lysidas follows justa edwardo king of amicus morentipus amores and manias cayen sirecta calculam bonas bubeque nalfragium est pet arm frantl briguiar caribere my academia topographos 1638 Lysidas in this monody the author bewails a learned friend unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish seas 1637 and by occasion foretells the ruin of our corrupted clergy then in their height yet once more Lysidas with ivy never sear I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude and with forced fingers rude shatter your leaves before the mellowing year bitter constraint and sad occasion dear compels me to disturb your seasoned you for Lysidas is dead dead dare his prime young Lysidas and hath not left his peer who would not sing for Lysidas he knew himself to sing and build the lofty rhyme he must not float upon his watery beer unwept and welter to the parting wind without the mead of some melodious tear begin then sisters of the sacred well that from beneath the seat of joe doth spring begin and somewhat loudly sweep the stream hence with denial vain and coy excuse so may some gentle muse with lucky words favor my destined urn and as he passes turn and bid fair peace be to my sable shroud for we were nursed upon the self same hill fed the same flock by fountain, shade and reel together both there the high lawns appeared under the opening eyelids of the morn we drove afield and both together heard what time the gray fly winds her sultry home battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night off to the star that rose at evening bright toward heaven's descent it sloped his westering wheel meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute tampered to the open flute rough satyrs danced with cloven heel from the glad sound would not be absent long and old Demetis loved to hear our song but oh the heavy change now thou art gone now thou art gone and never must return thee shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves with wild time at the gadding vinyl grove and all their echoes mourn the willows and the hazel copses green shall now no more be seen fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft blaze as killing as the canker to the rose or taintworm to the weanling herds that graze or frost to flowers that there gave water where and first the white thorn blows such licidus thylos to shepherd's ear where were ye nymphs when the remorseless deep closed or the head of your loved licidus for neither were you playing on the steep where your old barge the famous druids lie nor on the shaggy top of Mona High nor yet where diva spreads her wizard's stream and me I fondly dream had ye been there for what could that have done what could the muse herself that orpheus bore the muse herself for her enchanting son whom universal nature did lament when by the rout that made the hideous roar his gory visage down the stream was sent down the swift heabress to the lesbian shore alas what boots it with uncessant care to tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade and strictly meditate the thankless muse were it not better done as others used to sport with amaryllis in the shade or with the tangles of the iris hair fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise that last infirmity of noble mind to scorn delights and leave laborious days but the fair girdon when we hope to find and think to burst out into sudden blaze comes the blind fury with the horrid shears and slits the thin spun life but not the praise he was replied and touched my trembling ears fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil nor in the glistering foil set off to world nor in broad rumor lies but lives and spreads a loft by those pure eyes and perfect witness of all judging joe as he pronounces lastly on each deed of so much fame in heaven expect thy need O fountain arithutes and thou honored flood smooth sliding minceus crowned with vocal reeds that strain I heard was of a higher mood but now my oat proceeds and listens to the herald Neptune's plea he asked the waves and asked the felon winds what hard mishap hath doomed this gentle sway and questioned every gust of rugged wings that blows from off each beaked promontory they knew not of his story and sage apotides their answer brings that not a blast was from his dungeon strayed the air was calm and on the level fine sleep canopy with all their sisters played it was that fatal and perfidious bar built in the clips and rigged with curses dark that sunk so low that sacred head of thine next came us reverend sire went footing slow his mantle hairy and his bonnet sedge in rock with figures dim and on the edge like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe ah who hath breathed both he my dearest pledge last came and last did go the pilot of the galleon lake two massy keys he bore of metals twain the golden hopes the iron shuts amane he shook his mitered locks and stern oh well could I have spared for thee young swain and now of such as for their bellies say 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 bid and guest blind mouths that scarce themselves know how to hold a sheeple out else the least that the faithful herdman's art belongs what wrecks at them what need they they are sped and when they list their lean and flashy songs great on their scramble pipes of wretched straw the hungry sheep look up and are not fed but swole with wind and the rank mist they draw wrought inwardly and foul contagion spread but the grim wolf with privy par daily devours a pace and nothing said but that two-handed engine at the door stands ready to smite once and smite no more return alpheus the dread voice is past that shrunk thy streams returns Sicilian muse and call the veils and bid them hither cast their bells and flowerets of a thousand views the valley's low where the mild whispers use of shades and wanton winds and gushing brooks on whose fresh lap the sword star spairly looks throw hither all your quaint enameled eyes that on the green turf suck the honeyed showers and purple all the ground with vernal flowers ring the wrath primrose that forsaken dies twisted croto and pale jesson the white pink and the pansy freaked with jet the glowing violet the musk rose and the well-attired woodbine with cow slips worn that hang the pensive head and every flower that sad embroidery wears vid emeranthus all his beauty shed deaf adilis fill their cups with tears through the laureate hearse where nissan lives for so to interpose a little ease let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise me whilst thee the shores and sounding seas watch far away where ere thy bones are hurled where the beyond the stormy hebrides where thou perhaps under the whelming tide at the bottom of the monstrous world or whether thou to our moist vows denied sleeps by the fable of the larus old where the great vision of the guarded mount looks toward namancus in bayona's old look homeward angel now and melt with roof and only dolphins waft the hapless youth we no more woeful shepherds weep no more for licidus 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 oar flames in the forehead of the morning sky so licidus sunk low but mounted high through the dear might of him that walked the waves where other groves and other streams along with nectar pure his oozy locks he lays and hears the unexpressive nuptial song in the blessed kingdom's 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 forever from his eyes now licidus the shepherds weep no more henceforth thou art the genius of the shore in thy large recompense and shall be good to all that wander in that perilous flood thus sang the uncouth swaying to the oaks and reels still mourn went out with sandals gray he touched the tender stops of various quills with the eager thought warbling historic lay and now the sun had stretched out all the hills and now was dropped into the western bay at last he rose and twitched his mantle blue tomorrow to fresh woods new notes 64 uncessant manuscript reads incessant so that uncessant is probably a misprint though that spelling is retained in the second edition 82 perfect so in comas line 203 in both these places the manuscript has perfect as elsewhere where the word occurs the solemn music line 23 where the first edition reads perfect the second reads perfect 149 amaranthus amaranthus end of lissadas introductory material to comas a mask by john melton this libra box recording is in the public domain recording by thomas copeland a mask presented at low castle 1634 on michael musnite before the right honourable john url of bridgewater by cunt brackley lord president wales and one of his majesty's most honourable privy council a hue quid wallowy misiromihi floribus austum herditus london printed for humphrey robinson at the sign of the three pigeons in paul's churchyard 1637 to the right honourable john lord viscount brackley son and heir apparent to the url 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 acknowledged 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 friend satisfaction and brought me to a necessity of producing 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 live sweet lord to be the honour of your name and receive this as your own from the hands of him who hath by many favours been long obliged to your most honoured parents and as in this representation your attendant therces so now in all real expression your faithful and most humble servant h laws note dedication to viscount brackley omitted in 1673 the copy of a letter written by Sir Henry Wooten to the author upon the following time from the college this 13th of April 1638 sir it was a special favour when you lately bestowed upon me here the first taste of your acquaintance though no longer than to make me know that I wanted more time to value it and to enjoy it rightly and in truth I could then have imagined your father's stay in these parts which I understood afterwards by Mr. H I would have been bold in our vulgar phrase to mend my draught for you left me with an extreme thirst and to have begged your conversation again jointly with your said learned friend at a poor meal or two that we might have banded together some good authors of the ancient time among which I observed you to have been familiar since you're going you have charged me with new obligations both for a very kind letter from you dated the sixth of this month and for a dainty piece of entertainment which came therewith wherein I should much commend the tragical part if the lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Doric delicacy in your songs and odes wherein too I must plainly confess to have seen yet nothing parallel in our language but I must not admit to tell you that I now only owe you thanks for intimating unto me how modestly so ever the true artificer for the work itself I had viewed some good while before with singular delight having received it from our common friend Mr. R in the very close of the late R's poems printed at Oxford wherein too it was added as I now suppose accessory might help out the principle according to the art of stationers and to leave the reader Con la poca dolce now sir concerning your travels wherein I may challenge a little more privilege of discourse with you I suppose you will not bledge Paris in a way therefore I have been bold to trouble you with a few lines to Mr. M. B whom you shall easily find attending the young Lord S. as his governor and you may surely receive from him good directions for the shaping of your farther journey into Italy where he did reside by my choice some time for the king after my known recess from Venice I should think that your best line will be through the whole length of France to Marseille and thence by sea to Genoa whence the passage into Tuscany is as diurnal as a Graves and Barge I hasten as you do to Florence or Siena the rather to tell you a short story from the interest you have given me in your safety at Siena I was tabled in the house of one Alberto Sipione an old Roman courtier in dangerous times having been steward to the Ducca di Pagliano who with all his family were strangled to save this only man that escaped by foresight of the Tempest with him I had often much chat affairs into which he took pleasure to look back from his native harbor and at my departure toward Rome which had been the center of his experience I had won confidence enough to beg his advice how I might carry myself securely there without a fence of my own conscience Signor Arrigo Mio says he He pensieri stretti ed il viso sciotto will go safely over the whole world of which Delphian oracle for so I have found it your judgment doth need no commentary and therefore sir I will commit you with it to the best of all securities gods dear love remaining your friend as much at command as any of longer date Henry Woodman Post script sir I have expressly said this my foot boy to prevent your departure without some acknowledgement from me of your blighting letter having myself through some business I know how neglected the ordinary conveyance in any part where I shall understand you fixed I shall be glad and diligent to entertain you with home novelties even for some fomentation of our friendship too soon interrupted in the cradle note letter from Sir Henry Woodman omitted in 1673 end of introductory material to commas