626.

Which is the measure of the universe;

And music lifted up the listening spirit
Until it walk'd exempt from mortal care,
Godlike, o'er the clear billows of sweet sound;
And human hands first mimick'd and then mock'd,
With moulded limbs more lovely than its own,
The human form, till marble grew divine.

Were it possible
I could rise higher still, I am a man ;

And all these glories, empires heap'd upon me,
Confirm'd by constant friends, and faithful guards,
Cannot defend me from a shaking fever,

Or bribe the uncorrupted dart of death
To spare me one short minute. Thus adorn'd
In these triumphant robes, my body yields not
A greater shadow than it did when I

Liv'd both poor and obscure; a sword's sharp point
Enters my flesh as far; dreams break my sleep,
As when I was a private man; my passions
Are stronger tyrants on me; nor is greatness
A saving antidote to keep me from

A traitor's poison. Shall I praise my fortune,
Or raise the building of my happiness
On her uncertain favour? or presume
She is my own, and sure, that yet was never
Constant to any? Should my reason fail me
(As flattery oft corrupts it), here's an example
To speak how far her smiles are to be trusted:
The rising sun, this morning, saw this man
The Persian monarch, and those subjects proud
That had the honour but to kiss his feet;
And yet, ere his diurnal progress ends,
He is the scorn of fortune. But you'll say
That she forsook him for his want of courage,
But never leaves the bold: now, by my hopes,
Of peace and quiet here, I never met

A braver enemy! and, to make it good,
Cosroes, Cassana, and the rest, be free,
And ransomless return! I know that glory
Is like Alcides' shirt, if it stay on us

Till pride hath mixed it with our blood; nor can we
Part with it at pleasure; when we would uncase,
It brings along with it both flesh and sinews,
And leaves us living monsters.

No; I will not be pluck'd out by the ears
Out of this glorious castle; uncompell'd
I will surrender rather: let it suffice,

I have touch'd the height of human happiness ;
And here I fix nil ultra. Hitherto

I have lived a servant to ambitious thoughts,
And fading glories; what remains of life
I dedicate to virtue; and to keep

My faith untainted, farewell pride, and pomp,
And circumstance of glorious majesty ;
Farewell for ever!

II. TRAGIC ANAPÆSTIC VERSE.

627. Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go Far from thy light to dwell:

Thou shall not find my place below;

Dim is that world: bright sun of Greece, farewell.
Yet fainteth not my soul to part;

I mourn thee not, O sun!

Joy, solemn joy, o'erflows my heart;

Sing me triumphant songs! my crown is won.

628. O'er the smooth enamell'd green,

Where no print of step hath been,

Follow me as I sing,

And touch the warbled string,

Under the shady roof

Of branching elm star-proof.

Follow me;

I will bring you where she sits,
Clad in splendour as befits
Her deity.

Such a rural queen

All Arcadia hath not seen.

629. Quis mea digne deflere potest

Mala? quæ lacrymis nostris questus

Reddit Aedon? cuius pennas
Utinam miseræ mihi fata darent!

Fugerem luctus ablata meos
Penna volucri procul, et cœtus
Hominum tristes, cædemque feram.
Sola in vacuo nemore, et tenui
Ramo pendens querulo possem
Gutture mæstum fundere murmur.

630. Alas the wo, alas the peines strong,
That I for you have suffered, and so longe!
Alas the deth! alas min Emilie!

Alas departing of our compagnie !
Alas min hertes queene! alas my wif!
Min hertes ladie, ender of my lif!

What is this world? what axen men to have?
Now with his love, now in his colde grave,
Alone, withouten any compagnie !
Farewel my swete, farewel min Emilie!
And softe take me in your armes twey,
For love of God, and herkene what I

631. Behold, behold, Proserpina!

say.

How hoary clouds from out the earth arise,
And wing their way towards the skies,
As they would veil the burning blush of day.
And, look! upon a rolling car
Some fearful being from afar

Comes onward. As he moves along the ground,
A dull and subterranean sound

Companions him; and from his face doth shine,
Proclaiming him divine,

A light that darkens all the place around.

632. Fear no more the lightning flash,

Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!

633. Go to the ant, thou sluggard,

Consider her ways, and be wise.

Who, though she have neither governor,
Overseer, nor director,

Layeth up in the summer her food,
In the harvest storeth up her provision.
O sluggard, how long wilt thou lie?
Or when from thy sleep wilt thou rise?
A little more sleep, a little more slumber,
A little more folding of hands to rest,
And thy poverty shall come as a traveller,
And thy want as an armed man.

634. Haste thee, nymph, whose winged spear
Wounds the fleeting mountain-deer!
Dian, Jove's immortal child,
Huntress of the savage wild,
Goddess of the sun-bright hair,
Listen to a people's prayer!
Turn, to Lethe's river turn,
There the vanquish'd people mourn!
Come to Lethe's wavy shore,
There thy people's peace restore!
Thine their hearts, their altars thine,
Dian! must they must they pine?

635. When the powers on high decree,
For a feeble child of earth,

Dire perplexity and woe,

And his spirit doom to pass

With tumult wild from joy to grief,
And back again from grief to joy,
In fearful alternation;

They in mercy then provide,
In the precincts of his home,