And joyous news of heav'nly Infant's birth,
My Muse with Angels did divide to fing;
But headlong joy is ever on the wing,

In wintry folstice like the shorten'd light
Soon fwallow'd up in dark and long out-living night.

II.

For now to forrow muft I tune my song,
And fet my harp to notes of faddeft woe,
Which on our deareft Lord did feife ere long,

10

Dangers, and fnares, and wrongs, and worse than fo, Which he for us did freely undergo :

Moft perfect Hero, try'd in heaviest plight

Of labors huge and hard, too hard for human wight! III:

He fov'ran Priest stooping his regal head,

That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes,
Poor fleshly tabernacle entered,

His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies;
O what a mask was there, what a disguise!

22. Thefe lateft fcenes] So it is in the second edition of 1673; in the former of 1645 it is Thefe latter fcenes.

26. Loud o'er the reft Cremona's trump doth found;] He means Mar

15

Yet

cus Hieronymus Vida, who was a native of Cremona, and alludes particularly to his poem, Chriftiados Libri fex. And Mantua the birth place of Virgil being near to Cremona, Virg. Ecl. IX. 28.

Mantua

Yet more; the ftroke of death he must abide, A 20 Then lies him meekly down faft by his brethrens fide. IV.

These latest scenes confine my roving verfe,
To this horizon is my Phœbus bound;

His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce,

And former fufferings other where are found; 25
Loud o'er the reft Cremona's trump doth found
Me fofter airs befit, and fofter ftrings

Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things.

V.

Befriend me Night, beft patronefs of grief,

Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw,
And work my flatter'd fancy to belief,

That Heav'n and Earth are color'd with my woe;
My forrows are too dark for day to know:

30

The leaves fhould all be black whereon I write, And letters where my tears have wash'd a wannish

VI.

See, fee the chariot, and those rushing wheels,
That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood,
My spirit fome transporting Cherub feels,

To bear me where the tow'rs of Salem ftood,

Once glorious tow'rs, now funk in guiltless blood; There doth my foul in holy vifion fit

In penfive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit.

VII.

39

具

Mine eye hath found that fad fepulchral rock
That was the casket of Heav'n's richest store,
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock, 45
Yet on the foften'd quarry would I score
My plaining verfe as lively as before;

For fure fo well inftructed are my tears,

That they would fitly fall in order'd characters.

VIII.

Or fhould I thence hurried on viewless wing,
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild,
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and fpring

50

Would

the river Chebar, and was carried in the fpirit to Jerufalem; fo the poet fancies himself transported to the fame place.

Would foon unbofom all their echoes mild,
And I (for grief is eafily beguil'd)

Might think th' infection of my forrows loud 55 Had got a race of mourners on fome pregnant cloud. This fubject the Author finding to be above the years he had, when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinish’d.

FL

V.

* On TIM E.

LY envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace;

And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,

Which is no more than what is false and vain, 5 And merely mortal dross;

So little is our lofs,

So little is thy gain.

For when as each thing bad thou hast intomb'd,
And laft of all thy greedy felf confum'd,

In thefe poems where no date is prefix'd, and no circumstances direct us to afcertain the time when they were compos'd, we follow the order

ΙΟ

Then

of Milton's own editions. And be-
fore this copy of verfes, it appears
from the Manufcript that the poet
had written To be fet on a clock-cafe.
D 2
18.-happy-

Then long Eternity fhall greet our blifs

With an individual kifs;

And Joy fhall overtake us as a flood,

4

When every thing that is fincerely good

And perfectly divine,

With truth, and peace, and love, fhall ever fhine
About the fupreme throne

Of him, t' whofe happy-making fight alone

When once our heav'nly-guided foul shall clime,
Then all this earthy grofnefs quit,

Attir'd with stars, we shall for ever fit,

15

20

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee,

O Time.

YE

VI.

Upon the CIRCUMCISION.

E flaming Pow'rs, and winged Warriors bright That erft with mufic, and triumphant fong, First heard by happy watchful fhepherds ear,

18.

happy-making fight,] The plain English of beatific vifion.

15. O more exceeding love or law more juft?

So

Fuft law indeed, but more exceeding love!] Virgil. Ecl. VIII. 49.

Crudelis mater magis, an puer improbus ille?

Improbus