Denham. The Subjects arm'd, the more their Princes gave,
Th' Advantage only took, the more to crave:
Till Kings by giving, give themselves away,
And ev❜n that Pow'r, that fhould deny, betray.
Who gives conftrain'd, but his own Fear reviles,
„Not thank'd, but fcorn'd; nor are they Gifts but
Spoils.
Thus Kings, by grafping more than they could
hold,
First made their Subjects, by Oppreffion, bold:
And popular Sway, by forcing Kings to give
More than was fit for Subjects to receive,
Ran to the fame Extreams; and one Excefs
Made both, by ftriving to be greater, lefs.
When a calm River rais'd with fudden Rains,
Or Snows diffolv'd, o'erflows th' adjoining Plains,
The Husbandmen with high-rais'd Banks fecure
Their greedy Hopes, and this he can endure.
But if with Bays and Dams they strive to force
His Channel to a new, or narrow Courfe;
No longer then within his Banks he dwells,
Firft to a Torrent, then a Deluge fwells:
Stronger and fiercer by Restraint he roars,
And knows no Bound, but makes his Pow'r his
Shoars.
Unter den jugendlichen Arbeiten dieses großen erischen Dichters (geb. 1608. gest. 1674.) giebt es zwei vortreffliche kleine poetische Gemählde, L'Allegro und Il Penseroso, wos rin er die verschiednen Gesichtspunkte, aus welchen der Fröhliche und der Schwermüthige die Gegenfiånde der Natur und des Lebens ansehen, und die dadurch ganz vers schieden gestimmten Empfindungen beider meisterhaft ausges drückt hat. Vornehmlich suchte er, wie Dr. Johnson bez merkt, zu zeigen, wie aus der Reihe mannichfaltiger Gegens ftånde und Eindrücke jede von diesen beiden Gemüthsstime mungen diejenigen auffasst, wodurch ihr am meisten gewillfahrt, wodurch ihre herrschende Empfindung am meisten uns terhalten wird. Man sehe die schöne Zergliederung, welche er (Lives of the Engl. Poets, Vol. I. p. 227. fl.) von beiden Gedichten, in dieser Hinsicht, giebt. Nur das Kolorit der Schreibart scheint ihm nicht abstechend genug zu seyn; denn auch in der Sprache des Fröhlichen herrscht ein gewiffer schwermüthiger Gang. Wenn aber dieser Mangel auch wirklich gegründet wåre; so hat ihm doch Händel durch seis ne herrliche Komposition, und besonders durch den glücklis chen Gedanken abgeholfen, die von ihm aus beiden Stücken gewählten einzelnen Stellen wechselsweise auf einander fols gen zu laffen.
Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born.
In Stygian cave forlorn.
"Mongft horrid fhapes, and shrieks, and fights
unholy!
Find out fome uncouth cell,
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous
And the night-raven fings;
There under ebon fhades, and low-brow'd rocks
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell!
But come thou goddefs fair and free,
In heav'n ycleap'd Euphrofyne,
And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two fifter Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as fome fager fing,
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a-Maying,
There on beds of violets blue,
And fresh-blown rofes wafh'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonnair,
Hafte thee nymph, and bring with thee
Je eft and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek
And lowe to live in dimple fleek;
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe,
And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain-nymph, fweet Liberty;
And if I give the honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-tow'r in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife;
Then to come in spite of forrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the fweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the ftack, or the barn door,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before:
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the flumb'ring morn,
From the fide of fome hoar hill
Through the high wood echoing fhrill:
Some time walking not unseen
By hedge-row elms, on hilloks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great fun begins his ftate,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
While the ploughman near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his fithe,
And every fhepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures,
Whilft the landscape round it measures,
Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whofe barren breaft
The lab'ring clouds do often reft,
Meadows trim with daifies died,
Shallow brooks and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes,
Hard by a cottage-chimney fmokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met
Are at their favoury dinner fet
Of herbs, and other country-meffes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes;
Milton. And then in hafte her bow'r fhe leaves,
With Theftylis to bind 'the fheaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead
To the tann'd haycock in the mead,
Sometimes with fecure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecs found.
To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd fhade;
And young and old come forth to play
On a funf hine holyday,
Till the live-long day-light fail;
Then to the fpicy nut-brown ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat,
She was pinch'd, and pull'd, she said,
And he by friars lantern led
Tells how the drudging Goblin fwet,
To earn his cream-bowl duly fet,
When in one night, eie glimpse of morn,
His fhadowy flail hath threfh'd the corn,
That ten day-lab'rers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,
And ftretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Bafks a the fire his hairy ftrength,
And crop full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whisp'ring winds foon lull'd afleep.
Tow'red cities please us then,
And the bufy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of ladies, whofe bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace, whom all commend,
There let Hymen oft appear
In faffron robe, with taper clear,
|