Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony;

That Orpheus' self may heave his head,
From golden slumber on a bed

Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear
Such strains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free
His half-regained Eurydice.

These delights, if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.

IL PENSEROSO.1

HENCE, vain deluding joys,

The brood of Folly, without father bred!
How little you bestead,2

Or fill the fixéd mind with all your toys!
Dwell in some idle brain,

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless

As the gay motes that people the sun-beams,
Or likest hovering dreams,

The fickle pensioners3 of Morpheus' train.

(1) Il Penseroso-"The thoughtful, melancholy man." Both this poem and the preceding were written before Milton was thirty years of age. It is not difficult to perceive that "Il Penseroso" more especially embodies the poet's own experience and sympathies. Beautiful though “L'Allegro" is, "Il Penseroso" is still more exquisitely refined and graceful. But both may be considered as masterpieces of the poetic art, and every attempt that has been made to imitate them, has only served by the contrast to enhance the superlative excellence and beauty of the originals. The riches of the present poem are glanced at in the following synopsis:" The portrait of contemplation," says Dr. Symmons; "the address to Philomel; the image of the moon, wandering through heaven's pathless way; the slow swinging of the curfew over some wide-watered shore; the flaming of the night-lamp in some lonely tower; the unsphering of the spirit of Plato to disclose the residence of the unbodied soul; the arched walks of twilight groves; the mysterious dream by the murmuring waters; the sweet music of the friendly spirit of the wood; the pale and studious cloister; the religious light thrown through the storied windows; the pealing organ; and, finally, the peaceful hermitage, form together such a mass of poetic imagery as was never before crowded into an equal space; the impression made by it on the imagination is to be felt, and not explained."

(2) Bestead-avail.

(3) Pensioners-attendants, retinue.

But hail, thou goddess, sage and holy,
Hail, divinest Melancholy!
Whose saintly visage is too bright,
To hit the sense of human sight;
And therefore to our weaker view
O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue;
Black, but such as in esteem

Prince Memnon's sister1 might beseem;
Or that starred Ethiop queen2 that strove
To set her beauty's praise above

The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended:
Yet thou art higher far descended:
Thee, bright-haired3 Vesta, long of yore,
To solitary Saturn bore;

His daughter she-in Saturn's reign
Such mixture was not held a stain-
Oft in glimmering bowers and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove.
Come, pensive nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,
And sable stole of Cyprus lawn,5
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted state,
With even step, and musing gait,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine
There, held in holy passion still,
Forget thyself to marble, till

eyes:

(1) Memnon's sister-i. e. "An Ethiopian princess, or sable beauty. This lady is a creation of the poet."-Dunster.

(2) Starred Ethiop queen-Cassiope or Cassiopea, who pretended to vie with the Nereids in beauty;-starred because she was transformed into the constellation which bears her name.

(3) Thee, bright-haired, &c.-i. e. says Warton, "Melancholy is the daughter of Genius, which is typified by the bright-haired goddess of the eternal fire. Saturn, the father, is the god of saturnine disposition, of pensive and gloomy minds." (4) Whilst yet, &c.-i. e. before Jupiter rebelled against his father.

(5) Cyprus lawn-a fine fabric made at Cyprus; generally, but not always, of a black colour. Some read" cypress" in reference to the shrub so called, which is of a dark hue.

With a sad leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast;
And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft' with gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,

Aye round about Jove's altar sing;
And add to these retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure:
But first, and chiefest with thee bring,
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The cherub Contemplation :
And the mute Silence hist3 along,
'Less Philomel will deign a song
In her sweetest, saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of Night,
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke,
Gently o'er the accustomed oak.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy !5
Thee, chantress, oft the woods among
I woo, 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 heaven's wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head she bowed,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

Oft, on a plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off curfew sound,

(1) Spare Fast, that oft, &c.—To imply that temperance is favourable to poetical enthusiasm.

(2) The fiery-wheeled throne—the throne of God or Providence, guided by calm and comprehensive forethought.

(3) Hist-hushed; the same as "whist." (See note 4, p. 295.) Sir E. Brydges thus speaks of this and the seventeen following lines: "There is a spell in it (this passage) which goes far beyond mere description, it is the very perfection of ideal, and picturesque, and contemplative poetry."

(4) Cynthia checks, &c.-i. e. the Moon stops to hear the nightingale.

(5) Coleridge blames Milton for speaking of the nightingale as "melancholy;" he calls it merry nightingale."

Over some wide-watered shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar:1
Or, if the air will not permit,
Some still removed 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 hearth;
Or the bellman's drowsy charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Or let my lamp, at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely tower,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,3
With thrice-great Hermes; or unsphere
The spirit of Plato, to unfold
What worlds or what vast regions hold
The immortal mind, that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook;
And of those demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With planet, or with element.

Sometimes let gorgeous Tragedy?
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine;

Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskined stage.9

(1) Observe the peculiar aptness of every word in this line, and the music of its rhymth when read aloud.

(2) Removed-remote, unfrequented.

(3) Out-watch the Bear, &c.-i. e. study till past midnight the works of Hermes Trismegistus (the Mercury of the Egyptians), or of Plato.

(4) Unsphere the spirit, &c.-Awake it from its sphere or mansion, and bid it tell me where the soul goes when it leaves the body.

(5) And of, &c.-i. e. " unfold," or give me information of, or concerning those demons, &c. The construction here is very peculiar.

(6) Hath a true, &c.-i. e. works, or co-operates, with planetary or elemental influences.

(7) Gorgeous tragedy, &c.-i. e. the famous tragedies of the Greeks, founded, generally, on the distresses of kings; pall here means, a flowing robe.

(8) Though rare-" Just glancing at Shakspere."-Hurd.

(9) Buskined stage the buskin symbolises tragedy, as the sock does comedy. (See note 5, p. 309.)

But, O sad virgin, that thy power,
Might raise Museus' 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 that left 2 half-told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
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 aught else3 great bards beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of tourneys, and of trophies hung,
Of forests and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant1 than meets the ear.
Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited Morn appear;

5

Not tricked and frounced as she was wont
With the Attic boys to hunt,

But kercheft 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.

(1) Musaus-a celebrated Greek poet whose works are lost.

(2) Him that left, &c.-Chaucer. The story may be found in the extracts from that poet, pp. 243-251. Spenser endeavoured to complete it in the "Faerie Queene," book iv. It is difficult to see the propriety of this reference to a story which is rather romantic and fanciful than sad.

(3) And if aught else, &c.-i. e. O mournful virgin, relate to me anything else that great bards, &c. He here refers to Spenser and the "Faerie Queene."

(4) Where more is meant, &c.-In reference to the allegorical meaning of the "Faerie Queene."

(5) Thus night, &c.-" Hitherto we have seen the night of the melancholy man ; here his day commences."-Warton.

(6) Civil-suited-soberly attired, not splendidly adorned, as in "L'Allegro." (7) Tricked and frounced-dressed and frizzled, or curled.

(8) Attic boy-Cephalus, with whom Aurora fell in love as he was hunting. (9) Minute drops-drops falling at intervals, as we say minute-guns and minutebells.