I grind at mill
Their malt up still,
I dress their hemp, and spin their tow:
If any walk,
And would me talk.
I wend me, laughing Ho! ho! ho!
When men do traps and engines set
In loopholes, where the vermins creep,
Which from their fields and houses get
Their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep:
I spy the gin,
And seem a vermin taken so;
But when they there
Approach me near,
I leap out, laughing Ho! ho! ho!
4. PICTURE OF THE MIND.
Painter, you're come, but may be gone,
Now I have better thought thereon,
This work I can perform alone;
And give you reasons more than one.
Not that your art I do refuse;
But here I may no colours use.
Besides, your hand will never hit,
To draw a thing that cannot sit.
You could make shift to paint an eye
An eagle towering in the sky,
The sun, a sea, or soundless pit;
But these are like a mind, not it.
No, to express this mind to sense,
Would ask a heaven's intelligence;
Since nothing can report that flame,
But what's of kin to whence it came.
Sweet Mind, then speak yourself, and say,
As you go on, by what brave way
Our sense you do with knowledge fill,
And yet remain our wonder still.
I call you, Muse; now make it true:
Henceforth may every line be you:
That all may say, that see the frame,
This is no picture, but the same.
A mind so pure, so perfect fine,
As 'tis not radiant, but divine;
And so disdaining any trier,
'Tis got where it can try the fire.
There, high exalted in the sphere,
As it another nature were,
It moveth all; and makes a flight
As circular as infinite.
Whose notions when it will express
In speech, it is with that excess
Of grace, and music to the ear,
As what it spoke, it planted there.
The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound were parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.
But that a mind so rapt, so high,
So swift, so pure, should yet apply
Itself to us, and come so nigh
Earth's grossness; there's the how and why. Is it because it sees us dull,
And sunk in clay here, it would pull
Us forth, by some celestial sleight,
Up to her own subliméd height?
Or hath she here, upon the ground,
Some Paradise or palace found,
In all the bounds of Beauty, fit
For her t' inhabit? There is it.
Thrice happy house, that hast receipt
For this so lofty form, so straight,
So polish'd, perfect, round, and even
As it slid moulded off from heaven.
Not swelling like the ocean proud,
But stooping gently, as a cloud,
As smooth as oil pour'd forth, and calm
As showers, and sweet as drops of balm,
Smooth, soft, and sweet, in all a flood
Where it may run to any good;
And where it stays, it there becomes
A nest of odorous spice and gums.
In action, winged as the wind;
In rest, like spirits left behind
Upon a bank, or field of flowers,
Begotten by the wind and showers.
In thee, fair mansion, let it rest,
Yet know, with what thou art possest,
Thou, entertaining in thy breast
But such a mind, mak'st God thy guest.
5. SHIPS APPROACHING THE COAST
As far as I could cast my eyes,
Upon the sea, something, methought, did rise
Like bluish mists, which, still appearing more,
Took dreadful shapes, and thus mov'd towards the shore:
The object, I could first distinctly view,
Was tall straight trees which on the water flew :
Wings on their sides instead of leaves did grow,
Which gather'd all the breath the winds could blow:
And at their feet grew floating palaces,
Whose out-blow'd bellies cut the yielding seas!
MONTEZUMA. What divine monsters, O ye gods, are That float in air, and fly upon the seas
Came they alive or dead upon the shore?
GUIOM. Alas, they liv'd too sure: I heard them roar. All turn'd their sides, and to each other spoke : I saw their words break out in fire and smoke, Sure 'tis their voice that thunders from on high, And these the younger brothers of the sky. Deaf with the noise, I took my hasty flight: No mortal courage can support the fright.
6. HYMN TO THE MOON.
QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep :
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.
Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heav'n to clear, when day did close:
Bless us then with wishêd sight,
Goddess, excellently bright.
Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever :
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess, excellently bright.
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss within the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope that there
It could not wither'd be:
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me,
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself but thee.
8. GOOD LIFE LONG LIFE.
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk doth make men better be, Or standing like an oak three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere,
A lily of a day
Is fairer far than they,
Although it fall and die that night: It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measure life may perfect be.
It chanced of late a shepherd swain,
That went to seek his straying sheep,
Within a thicket on a plain
Espied a dainty nymph asleep.
Her golden hair o'erspread her face;
Her careless arms abroad were cast;
Her quiver had her pillow's place;
Her breast lay bare to every blast.
The shepherd stood and gazed his fill;
Naught durst he do; naught durst he say,
Whilst chance, or else perhaps his will,
Did guide the god of love that way.
The crafty boy that sees her sleep,
Whom if she waked he durst not see;
Behind her closely seeks to creep,
Before her nap should ended be.
There come, he steals her shafts away,
And puts his own into their place;
Nor dares he any longer stay,
But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace.
Scarce was he gone, but she awakes,
And spies the shepherd standing by :
Her bended bow in haste she takes,
And at the simple swain lets fly.
Forth flew the shaft, and pierced his heart,
That to the ground he fell with pain;
Yet up again forthwith he start,
And to the nymph he ran amain.
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