In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 210 Nor is Osiris seen XXIV In Memphian grove or green, Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud; Nor can he be at rest Within his sacred chest; Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; In vain, with timbreled anthems dark, The sable-stolèd Sorcerers bear his worshiped ark. 219 XXV He feels from Juda's land The dreaded Infant's hand; The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Nor all the gods beside Longer dare abide, Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew. XXVI So, when the Sun in bed, Curtained with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave, And the yellow-skirted Fays 230 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze. XXVII But see! the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest, Time is our tedious song should here have ending: Heaven's youngest-teemèd star Hath fixed her polished car, 240 Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending; And all about the courtly stable Bright-harnessed Angels sit in order serviceable. ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. It shall be still in strictest measure even Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven. As ever in my great Task-master's eye. L'ALLEGRO HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darknesss preads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. The frolic Wind that breathes the spring, As he met her once a-Maying, There on beds of violets blue, And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, And love to live in dimple sleek; And in thy right hand lead with thee 10 20 80 To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free; To hear the lark begin his flight, Oft listening how the hounds and horn Under the hawthorn in the dale. Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Whilst the landscape round it measures; Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; 40 50 60 70 Mountains on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; The upland hamlets will invite, To many a youth and many a maid. And young and old come forth to play Till the livelong daylight fail: Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, How fairy Mab the junkets eat: |