The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)

Hail native language, that by sinews weak

  Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,

  And mad’st imperfect words with childish trips,

  Half unpronounced, slide through my infant lips,

  5 Driving dumb silence from the portal door,

  Where he had mutely sat two years before:

  Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask,

  That now I use thee in my latter task:

  Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,

  10 I know my tongue but little grace can do thee.

  Thou need’st not be ambitious to be first,

  Believe me I have thither packed the worst:

  And, if it happen as I did forecast,

  The daintiest dishes shall be served up last.

  15 I pray thee then deny me not thy aid

  For this same small neglect that I have made:

  But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure,

  And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest treasure;

  Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight

  20 Which takes our late fantastics with delight,

  But cull those richest robes, and gay’st attire

  Which deepest spirits, and choicest wits desire:

  I have some naked thoughts that rove about

  And loudly knock to have their passage out;

  25 And weary of their place do only stay

  Till thou hast decked them in thy best array;

  That so they may without suspect or fears

  Fly swiftly to this fair assembly’s ears;

  Yet I had rather, if I were to choose,

  30 Thy service in some graver subject use,

  Such as may make thee search thy coffers round,

  Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound:

  Such where the deep transported mind may soar

  Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav’n’s door

  35 Look in, and see each blissful deity

  How he before the thunderous throne doth lie,

  Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings

  To th’ touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings

  Immortal nectar to her kingly sire:

  40 Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire,

  And misty regions of wide air next under,

  And hills of snow and lofts of pilèd thunder,

  May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune raves,

  In Heav’n’s defiance mustering all his waves;

  45 Then sing of secret things that came to pass

  When beldam Nature in her cradle was;

  And last of kings and queens and heroes old,

  Such as the wise Demodocus once told

  In solemn songs at King Alcinous’ feast,

  50 While sad Ulysses’ soul and all the rest

  Are held with his melodious harmony

  In willing chains and sweet captivity.

  But fie my wand’ring Muse how thou dost stray!

  Expectance calls thee now another way;

  55 Thou know’st it must be now thy only bent

  To keep in compass of thy Predicament:

  Then quick about thy purposed business come,

  That to the next I may resign my room.

  Then ENS is represented as father of the Predicaments his ten sons, whereof the eldest stood for SUBSTANCE with his Canons, which ENS thus speaking, explains.

  Good luck befriend thee son; for at thy birth

  60 The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth;

  Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy

  Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie;

  And sweetly singing round about thy bed

  Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head.

  65 She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst still

  From eyes of mortals walk invisible,

  Yet there is something that doth force my fear,

  For once it was my dismal hap to hear

  A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crookèd age,

  70 That far events full wisely could presage,

  And in time’s long and dark prospective glass,

  Foresaw what future days should bring to pass;

  Your son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)

  Shall subject be to many an Accident.

  75 ’er all his brethren he shall reign as king,

  Yet every one shall make him underling,

  And those that cannot live from him asunder

  Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under;

  In worth and excellence he shall outgo them,

  80 Yet being above them, he shall be below them;

  From others he shall stand in need of nothing,

  Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing.

  To find a foe it shall not be his hap,

  And peace shall lull him in her flow’ry lap;

  85 Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door

  Devouring war shall never cease to roar:

  Yea it shall be his natural property

  To harbour those that are at enmity.

  What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not

  90 Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot?

  The next, QUANTITY and QUALITY, spake in prose, then RELATION was called by his name

  Rivers arise; whether thou be the son,

  Of utmost Tweed, or Ouse, or gulfy Dun,

  Or Trent, who like some Earth-born Giant spreads

  His thirty arms along th’ indented meads,

  95 Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,

  Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden’s death,

  Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lea,

  Or coaly Tyne, or ancient hallowed Dee,

  Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythian’s name,

  100 Or Medway smooth, or royal-towered Thame.

  The rest was prose

  Sonnet XI

  A book was writ of late called Tetrachordon;

  And woven close, both matter, form and style;

  The subject new: it walked the town a while,

  Numb’ring good intellects; now seldom pored on.

  5 Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on

  A title page is this! and some in file

  Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile-

  End Green. Why is it harder sirs than Gordon,

  Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?

  10 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek

  That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.

  Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir John Cheke,

  Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,

  When thou taught’st Cambridge and King Edward Greek.

  Sonnet XII

  On the same

  I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs

  By the known rules of ancient liberty,

  When straight a barbarous noise environs me

  Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.

  5 As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs

  Railed at Latona’s twin-born progeny

  Which after held the sun and moon in fee.

  But this is got by casting pearl to hogs;

  That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,

  10 And still revolt when truth would set them free.

  Licence they mean when they cry Liberty;

  For who loves that, must first be wise and good;

  But from that mark how far they rove we see

  For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.

  Sonnet XIII

  To Mr H. Lames, on his Airs

  Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song

  First taught our English music how to span

  Words with just note and accent, not to scan

  With Midas’ ears, committing short and long,

  5 Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,

  With praise enough for env
y to look wan;

  To after age thou shalt be writ the man

  That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue.

  Thou honour’st verse, and verse must lend her wing

  10 To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus’ choir

  That tun’st their happiest lines in hymn, or story.

  Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher

  Than his Casella, whom he wooed to sing

  Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

  Sonnet XIV

  When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,

  Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God,

  Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load

  Of death, called life; which us from life doth sever.

  5 Thy works and alms and all thy good endeavour

  Stayed not behind, nor in the grave were trod;

  But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,

  Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever.

  Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best

  10 Thy handmaids, clad them o’er with purple beams

  And azure wings, that up they flew so dressed,

  And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes

  Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest

  And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

  Sonnet XV

  On the Late Massacre in Piedmont

  Avenge O Lord thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

  Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;

  Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old

  When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,

  5 Forget not: in thy book record their groans

  Who were thy sheep and in their ancient fold

  Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled

  Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans

  The vales redoubled to the hills, and they

  10 To Heav’n. Their martyred blood and ashes sow

  O’er all th’ Italian fields where still doth sway

  The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow

  A hundredfold, who having learnt thy way

  Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

  Sonnet XVI

  When I consider how my light is spent,

  Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

  And that one talent which is death to hide,

  Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

  5 To serve therewith my Maker, and present

  My true account, lest he returning chide,

  Doth God exact day labour, light denied,

  I fondly ask; but patience to prevent

  That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need

  10 Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best

  Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state

  Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

  And post o’er land and ocean without rest:

  They also serve who only stand and wait.

  Sonnet XVII

  Lawrence of virtuous father virtuous son,

  Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire,

  Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire

  Help waste a sullen day, what may be won

  5 From the hard season gaining? Time will run

  On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire

  The frozen earth; and clothe in fresh attire

  The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.

  What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,

  10 Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise

  To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice

  Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?

  He who of those delights can judge, and spare

  To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

  Sonnet XVIII

  Cyriack, whose grandsire on the Royal Bench

  Of British Themis, with no mean applause

  Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws,

  Which others at their bar so often wrench;

  5 Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench

  In mirth, that after no repenting draws;

  Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,

  And what the Swede intend, and what the French.

  To measure life learn thou betimes, and know

  10 Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;

  For other things mild Heav’n a time ordains,

  And disapproves that care, though wise in show,

  That with superfluous burden loads the day,

  And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

  Sonnet XIX

  Methought I saw my late espousèd saint

  Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,

  Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave,

  Rescued from death by force though pale and faint.

  5 Mine as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint

  Purification in the old Law did save,

  And such, as yet once more I trust to have

  Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,

  Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:

  10 Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight,

  Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined

  So clear, as in no face with more delight.

  But O as to embrace me she inclined,

  I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.

  The Fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I

  Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa

  Rendered almost word for word without rhyme according to the Latin measure, as near as the language will permit.

  What slender youth bedewed with liquid odours

  Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,

  Pyrrha? For whom bind’st thou

  In wreaths thy golden hair,

  5 Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he

  On faith and changèd gods complain: and seas

  Rough with black winds and storms

  Unwonted shall admire:

  Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,

  10 Who always vacant always amiable

  Hopes thee; of flattering gales

  Unmindful? Hapless they

  To whom thou untried seem’st fair. Me in my vowed

  Picture the sacred wall declares t’ have hung

  15 My dank and dropping weeds

  To the stern god of sea.

  On the New Forcers of Conscience under the Long Parliament

  Because you have thrown off your prelate lord,

  And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy

  To seize the widowed whore plurality

  From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred,

  5 Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword

  To force our consciences that Christ set free,

  And ride us with a classic hierarchy

  Taught ye by mere A.S. and Rutherford?

  Men whose life, learning, faith and pure intent

  10 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul

  Must now be named and printed heretics

  By shallow Edwards and Scotch What-d’ye-call:

  But we do hope to find out all your tricks,

  Your plots and packings worse than those of Trent,

  15 That so the Parliament

  May with their wholesome and preventive shears

  Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears,

  And succour our just fears

  When they shall read this clearly in your charge:

  20 New Presbyter is but old Priest writ large.

  PSALM PARAPHRASES ADDED IN 1673

  Psalm I

  Done into Verse, 1653

  Blest is the man who hath not walked astray

  In counsel of the wicked, and i’ th’ way

  Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat

  Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great

/>   5 Jehovah’s Law is ever his delight,

  And in his Law he studies day and night.

  He shall be as a tree which planted grows

  By wat’ry streams, and in his season knows

  To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall,

  10 And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.

  Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fanned

  The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand

  In judgement, or abide their trial then,

  Nor sinners in th’ assembly of just men.

  15 For the Lord knows th’ upright way of the just,

  And the way of bad men to ruin must.

  Psalm II

  Done August 8, 1653. Terzetti

  Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations

  Muse a vain thing, the kings of th’ earth upstand

  With power, and princes in their congregations

  Lay deep their plots together through each land,

  5 Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?

  Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand

  Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,

  Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell

  Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe

  10 Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

  And fierce ire trouble them; but I, saith he

  Anointed have my king (though ye rebel)

  On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree

  I will declare; the Lord to me hath said

  15 Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee

  This day; ask of me, and the grant is made;

  As thy possession I on thee bestow

  The heathen, and as thy conquest to be swayed

  Earth’s utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low

  With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse

  Like to a potter’s vessel shivered so.

  And now be wise at length ye kings averse,

  Be taught ye judges of the earth; with fear

  Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse

  25 With trembling; kiss the Son lest he appear

  In anger and ye perish in the way,

  If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.

  Happy all those who have in him their stay.