The bounds of either sword to thee we owe: XVIII. ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT. AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones 5 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant; that from these may grow A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way Early may fly the Babylonian woe. XIX. ON HIS BLINDNESS. WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 13 Therefore, &c.] In the printed copies: "Therefore on thy right hand Religion leans, And reckons thee in chief her eldest son.' Newlon. 2 Alpine] Fairfax's Tasso, B. xiii. s. 60. 'Distill'd from tops of Alpine mountains cold.' Warton. And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5 My true account, lest he returning chide; And post o'er land and ocean without rest: 13 XX. TO MR. LAWRENCE.* LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire 10 man's work, or his own gifls] Free will, or grace. Warburton. 13 post] P. L. iv. 171, 'With a vengeance sent, From Media post to Egypt.' Warton. 5 * Lawrence published a work called 'Of our Communion and Warre with Angels,' &c. 1646, 4to. Todd. See British Bibliographer, vol. i. p. 352. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise To hear the lute well touch'd, 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. XXI. TO CYRIAC SKINNER. CYRIAC, whose grandsire on the royal bench And what the Swede intends, and what the French. Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; 10 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. 7 Euclid] See Censura Literaria, vi. p. 144. 8 And what the Swede intends] So the MS. The first ed. And what the Swede intend,' which in others is altered to, ' And what the Swedes intend.' Newlon. 11 mild Heav'n] So Son. xix. 'bear his mild yoke.' Par. Reg. ii. 125, 'these mild seats.' Sil. Italicus, iv. 795, Mite et cognatum est homini deus.' And Hen. More's Poems, p. 196. XXII. TO THE SAME. CYRIAC, this three years day these eyes, tho' clear 5 To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? The conscience, Friend, t' have lost them overplied In liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 12 This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content though blind, had I no better guide. 3 Bereft, &c.] In the printed copies, 'Bereft of sight their seeing have forget, Nor to their idle orbs doth day appear. Or sun or moon.' Newton. 7 a] In the printed copies, 'one. Newton. 12 rings] So the printed copies before Newton's edition, in which 'talks' is substituted from the MS. instead of 'rings.' The Sonnet thus concluded before Newton's ed. 'Whereof all Europe rings from side to side. This thought might lead me through this world's vain mask, Content though blind, had I no other guide.' Todd. XXIII. ON HIS DECEASED WIFE. METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, tho' pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd 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 Heav'n without restraint, Came, vested all in white, pure as her mind: Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd So clear, as in no face with more delight. But O, as to embrace me she inclin'd, 10 I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.* * The original various readings to the sonnets from the Cambridge MS. may be seen in Mr. Todd's edition of Milton's Poet. Works, (1809,) vol. vi. p. 500—3. |