of the lyrical part,-"It was the winter wild," and "Only with speeches fair:" all the rest is essence of poetry; and that of the strongest and most picturesque sort. The ninth stanza "When such music sweet," is such as perhaps no one but Milton could have written; and still several, which follow, rise even upon this. Some one has said that Milton had no ear for the harmony of versification; this hymn proves that his ear was perfect. Spenser's Alexandrines are fine; Milton's are more like the deepest swell of the organ. When it is recollected that this piece was produced by the author at the age of twenty-one, all deep thinkers of fancy and sensibility must pore upon it with delighted wonder. The vigour, the grandeur, the imaginativeness of the conception; the force and maturity of language; the bound, the gathering strength, the thundering roll of the metre; the largeness of the views; the extent of the learning; the solemn and awful tones; the enthusiasm, and a certain spell in the epithets, which puts the reader into a state of mysterious excitement, may be better felt than described. I venture to pronounce this poem far superior to the "L'Allegro" and “Il Penseroso," though the popular taste may not concur with me: it is much deeper; much more original; and of a nobler cast of materials. The two latter poems are mainly descriptive of the inanimate beauties of the creation: it is the grand purpose of poetry to embody invisible spirits; to give shape and form to the ideal; to bring out into palpable lines and colours the intellectual world; to associate with that which is material that which is purely spiritual; to travel into air, and open upon the fancy other creations. Fancy is but one faculty of the mind; it is a mirror, of whose impressions the transfer upon paper by the medium of language is a single operation. Milton, before he could write the Hymn, must have already exercised and enriched all his faculties with vast and successful culture. He had travelled in those dim regions, into which young minds scarcely ever venture; and he had carried a guarded lamp with him, so as to see all around him, before and behind; yet not so peering and reckless as to destroy the religious awe. The due position of the lights and shades was never infringed upon. THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, a That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. That glorious form, that light unsufferable, 5 Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table 10 He laid aside; and here with us to be, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. To welcome him to this his new abode, Now, while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, 15 Sama zek a print of the approaching light, Se, low from far, upon the eastern road, un, prevent them with thy humble ode, An ag I buy at his blessed feet; Sure and the bonear first thy lord to greet, Frum ut is secret alar touch'd with hallow'd fire". I was the water will THE HYMN. While the heaven-born child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Hai fiber gly trim, With her great Master so to sympathise : I wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She was the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; Pute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Should look so near upon her foul deformities. But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace: She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing: And, waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land '. Spangled host. A magnificent line: but these four introductory stanzas are not equal to the Hymn. Wise men.-T. WARTON. e The star-led wisards. d From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. Alluding to Isaiah vi. 6, 7.—NEWTON. e Fears to cease. I believe cease is seldom used as a verb active. 1 She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. Dr. Newton perhaps too nicely remarks, that for "Peace to strike a peace" No war, or battle's sound, Was heard the world around: The idle spear and shield were high up hung; Unstain'd with hostile blood"; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave'. 55 60 05 70 But in their glimmering orbs did glow, Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed; 75 inaccuracy: yet he allows that "fœdus ferire" is classical. But Roman phraseology is here quite out of the question. It is not a league, or agreement of peace between two parties, that is intended: a quick and universal diffusion is the idea. It was done as with a stroke. -T. WARTON. Yet it will perhaps be generally supposed that Milton had the "ferire fœdus," which Stephens interprets " pacem componere," in his mind.-DUNSTER. 8 The hooked chariot stood Liv. 1. xxxvii. xli. "Falcatæ quadriga, quibus sc perturbaturum hostium aciem Antiochus crediderat, in suos terrorem verterunt."-BoWLE. Nothing can be more poetically grand than this stanza. there are few passages finer than this. The winds, with wonder whist. In all Milton's noble poetry "Whist" is silenced. In Stanyhurst's Virgil, "Intentique ora tenebant," is translated, "They whisted all." B. ii. 1.-T. WARTON. While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. Another glorious line. The whole stanza breathes the essence of descriptive poetry. And, though the shady gloom, &c. Mr. Bowle saw with me that this stanza is a copy of one in Spenser's " April :”— And hid his head for shame, As his inferiour flame The new-enlighten'd 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 e'er the point of dawn, Sat simply chatting in a rustick 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 stringed noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took : The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. Nature, that heard such sound', Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia's seat, the aery region thrilling, Now was almost won, To think her part was done, And that her reign had here its last fulfilling : She knew such harmony alone Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. I sawe Phoebus thrust out his golden hede Vpon her to gaze: But, when he saw howe broade her beames did sprede, It did him amaze. Hee blusht to see another sunne belowe, Ne durst againe his fierie face outshowe, &c.-T. WARTON. k That the mighty Pan Was kindly come to live with them below. That is, with the shepherds on the lawn. So, in Spenser's " May," which Milton imitates in "Lycidas:" I muse what account both these will make, We should recollect that Christ is styled a shepherd in the sacred writings. Mr. Bowle observes, that Dante calls him Jupiter, "Purgat." c. vi. v. 118; and that this passage is literally adopted by Pulci, "Morgant. Magg." c. ii. v. 2.-T. WARTON. I it so. 1 Nature, that heard such sound. suppose this is one of the stanzas which Warton deemed a conceit. I can hardly call At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, That with long beams the shamefaced night array'd; The helmed cherubim, And sworded seraphim, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd, 110 115 With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born heir. And the well-balanced world on hinges hung; And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep. Ring out, ye crystal spheres; Once bless our human ears, 120 125 Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; 135 And hears the unexpressive nuptial song. The word, which is the object of this note, was perhaps coined by Shakspeare, The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.-T. WARTON. This stanza is sublime, and in Milton's peculiar manner. a Such musick. This stanza also is of equal excellence; and so the stanza which follows. • And let the bass of Heaven's deep organ blow. "As you Here is another idea caught by Milton from St. Paul's cathedral while he was a schoolboy. Milton was not yet a puritan: afterwards, he and his friends the fanatics would not have allowed of so papistical an establishment as an organ and choir, even in heaven. -T. WARTON. I think, to name the organ, in speaking of the music of the spheres, is rather the bathos. P And, with your ninefold harmony. There being" nine infolded spheres," as in "Arcades," v. 64.-NEWTON. 9 And speckled Vanity, &c. Plainly taken from the "maculosum nefas" of Horace, "Od." v.4. 23.-Jos. WARTON. |