To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) 69 74 To scorn delights, and live laborious days; Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies : Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.' 79 84 O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood : But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the herald of the sea That came in Neptune's plea ; 90 He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, And sage Hippotades their answer brings, 95 100 Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe: 105 'Ah! who hath reft,' quoth he, my dearest pledge?' Last came, and last did go The pilot of the Galilean lake ; Two massy keys he bore of metals twain (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain); 110 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : 'How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 115 Creep and intrude and climb into the fold! A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least are sped; 121 They 125 And when they list, their lean and flashy songs 130 135 Return, Alpheus, 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 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes That on the green turf suck the honey'd showers And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 139 Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, To strew the laureat hearse where Lycid lies. 145 150 156 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise ; 160 Where the great Vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold, -Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth: -And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth! Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, 165 171 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore waves; Where, other groves and other streams along, 175 There entertain him all the saints above 180 185 Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, While the still morn went out with sandals grey; He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric 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. J. MILTON. 67 191 ON THE TOMBS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY Mortality, behold and fear, Think how many royal bones What a change of flesh is here! Sleep within these heaps of stones; Here they lie, had realms and lands, 5 Who now want strength to stir their hands, With the richest royallest seed Since the first man died for sin : Here the bones of birth have cried 10 Though gods they were, as men they died ! ' Here are sands, ignoble things, Dropt from the ruin'd sides of kings : F. BEAUMONT. 15 68 THE LAST CONQUEROR Victorious men of earth, no more Yet you, proud monarchs, must obey Devouring Famine, Plague, and War, Each able to undo mankind, Death's servile emissaries are ; Nor to these alone confined, He hath at will More quaint and subtle ways to kill; A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart. J. SHIRLEY. 5 10 15 69 DEATH THE LEVELLER The glories of our blood and state Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still : 5 9 |