An outlaw'd king's last stock. A hundred more Would make him pimp for th' antichristian whore ; And in Rome's praise employ his poison'd breath, Who threaten'd once to stink the pope to death.

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 widow'd whore Plurality
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd,
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 Rotherford ?

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The note of Warton on this sonnet appears to me to be extremely unjust and severe. Milton denoted his indignation against the Presbyterians because they had deserted their own principles, continued many of the supposed abuses, and usurped much of the power of the church which they had overthrown: in fact, the new Presbyter was more tyrannical than the old priest.

8 A. S.] A polemical writer of the times, named Adam Steuart.' See the notes of Warton and Todd. Rotherford was one of the Chief Commissioners of the Church of Scotland; also sat with the Assembly at Westminster. He was Professor of Divinity in the University of St. Andrew's; wrote many Calvinistic tracts; and was an avowed enemy of the Independents. T. Edwards had attacked Milton's Plan of Independency in his Antapologia, 1644. On Rotherford. See Heber's Life of I. Taylor, ii. 203.

Men whose life, learning, faith, and
pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Must now be nam'd 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 packing worse than those of Trent,
That so the Parliament

May with their wholesome and preventive shears
Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears,
And succour our just fears,

When they shall read this clearly in your charge,
New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large.

17 Clip] In the MS. the lines stand thus.

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20

Crop ye as close as marginal P's ears; that is Prynne's. Warton.

17 bauk] i. e. spare. Warton.

SONNETS.

1. TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,

First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O if Jove's will
Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate

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Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; 10
As thou from year to year hast sung too late
For my relief, yet hadst no reason why:

Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I.

II.

DONNA leggiadra il cui bel nome honora
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e it nobil varco,
Bene è colui d'ogni valore scarco
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,
Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora

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5 close] Crashawe's Poems, The Weeper, st. xxiii. "Docs day close

his eyes?" Todd.

De' sui atti soavi giamai parco,

E i don', che son d'amor saette ed La onde l'alta tua virtu s'infiora. Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti

arco,

Che mover possa duro alpestre legno
Guardi ciascun a gli occhi, ed a gli orecchi
L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno;
Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, innanti
Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi.

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III.

QUAL in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera,
L'avezza giovinetta pastorella

Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella
Che mal si spande a disusata spera
Fuor di sua natia alma primavera,
Cosi Amor meco insù la lingua snella
Desta il fior novo di strania favella,
Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera,
Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso
E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno.
Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso

Seppi ch'Amor cosa mai volse indarno.
Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno

A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno.

1 imbrunir] Petrarch Canz. xxxvii. 'Imbrunir veggio la sera.'

CANZONE.

RIDONSI donne e giovani amorosi
M' accostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t'osi?
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana,
E de' pensieri lo miglior t'arrivi;
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi
Altri lidi t'aspettan, ed altre onde
Nelle cui verdi sponde

Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondi
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?

Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi

Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore
Questa é lingua di cui si vanta Amore.

IV.

DIODATI, e te'l dirò con maraviglia,

Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar soléa

E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridéa

Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia.

Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia

M'abbaglian sì, ma sotto nova idea

Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea,

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5 vermiglia] Tasso Aminta, act i. sc. . 2, 'A le guancie vermiglie, come rosa;' and Comus, 752, 'vermcil-tinctured lip.' Warton.

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