To wander solitary there:
Two paradises 't were in one
To live in paradise alone.

How well the skilful gardener drew,
Of flowers and herbs, this dial new;
Where, from above, the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run,
And, as it works, the industrious bee
Computes its time as well as we.

How could such sweet and wholesome hours
Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers?

1650-53?

FROM

1681.

THE CHARACTER OF HOLLAND

Holland, that scarce deserves the name of land,
As but the off-scouring of the British sand,
And so much earth as was contributed
By English pilots when they heaved the lead,
Or what by the ocean's slow alluvion fell
Of shipwracked cockle and the mussel-shell,
This indigested vomit of the sea
Fell to the Dutch by just propriety.

Glad then, as miners that have found the ore,
They with mad labour fished the land to shore,
And dived as desperately for each piece
Of earth as if 't had been of ambergris,
Collecting anxiously small loads of clay,
Less than what building swallows bear away,
Or than those pills which sordid beetles roll,
Transfusing into them their dunghill soul.
How did they rivet with gigantic piles,
Thorough the centre, their new-catchèd miles!
And to the stake a struggling country bound,
Where barking waves still bait the forced ground,

5

ΙΟ

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20

Building their watery Babel far more high
To reach the sea, than those to scale the sky.
Yet still his claim the injured ocean laid,
And oft at leap-frog o'er their steeples played,
As if on purpose it on land had come
To show them what's their mare liberum.
A daily deluge over them does boil;
The earth and water play at level coil.
The fish ofttimes the burgher dispossest,
And sat, not as a meat, but as a guest;
And oft the Tritons and the sea-nymphs saw
Whole shoal of Dutch served up for cabillau;
Or, as they over the new level ranged,
For pickled herring pickled heeren changed.
Nature, it seemed, ashamed of her mistake,
Would throw their land away at duck and drake.
Therefore necessity, that first made kings,
Something like government among them brings:
For as with pygmies who best kills the crane,
Among the hungry he that treasures grain,
Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard, reigns,
So rules among the drownèd he that drains:
Not who first sees the rising sun, commands,
But who could first discern the rising lands;
Who best could know to pump an earth so leak,
Him they their lord and country's father speak;
To make a bank was a great plot of state;
Invent a shovel, and be magistrate.
About 1653.

JOHN MILTON

1653? 1665.

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY

This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heav'n's Eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring:
For so the holy sages once did sing,

That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

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30

35

40

45

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That glorious form, that light unsufferable,

And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,

Wherewith he wont at heav'n's high council-table
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

He laid aside, and, here with us to be,
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,

And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.

Say, heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
Afford a present to the Infant God?

ΙΟ

15

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,

To welcome him to this his new abode,

Now while the heav'n, by the sun's team untrod,

Hath took no print of the approaching light,

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And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

See how from far upon the eastern road

The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet!

O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,

And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;

Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet,
And join thy voice unto the angel quire,

From out his secret altar toucht with hallowed fire.

THE HYMN

It was the winter wild,

While the heav'n-born Child,

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30

All meanly wrapt, in the rude manger lies;

Nature, in awe to him,

Had dofft her gaudy trim,

With her great Master so to sympathize:

It was no season then for her

35

To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.

Only with speeches fair

She wooes the gentle air

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow,
And on her naked shame,

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Pollute with sinful blame,

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded that her Maker's eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

But He, her fears to cease,

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Sent down the meek-eyed Peace:

She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphere,

His ready harbinger,

And, waving wide her myrtle wand,

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing;

50

She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

60

But peaceful was the night

Wherein the Prince of Light

His reign of peace upon the earth began:

The winds, with wonder whist,

Smoothly the waters kist,

Whispering new joys to the mild Ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave.

The stars with deep amaze

65

Until their Lord Himself bespake, and bid them go.

The new-enlightened world no more should need:

He saw a greater Sun appear

Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear.

The shepherds on the lawn,

Or ere the point of dawn,

Sate simply chatting in a rustic row;

Full little thought they than

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below:

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.

When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet

As never was by mortal finger strook;

Divinely warbled voice,

Answering the stringèd noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took:

The air, such pleasure loth to lose,

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With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. 100

Nature, that heard such sound

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling,

Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

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And that her reign had here its last fulfilling:

She knew such harmony alone

Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union.

That with long beams the shame-fac't Night arrayed; The helmèd cherubim

And sworded seraphim

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, Harping in loud and solemn quire,

115

With unexpressive notes, to heav'n's new-born Heir.

Such music (as 't is said)

Before was never made,

But when of old the Sons of Morning sung,