1220

1221

H

THE SYLVAN HUNTRESS

ER yellow lockes, crispéd like golden wyre,
about her shoulders weren loosely shed,
and, when the winde amongst them did inspyre,
they wavéd like a penon wyde dispred,
and low behinde her backe was scattered:
and, whether art it were or heedlesse hap,
as through the flourring forest rash she fled,

in her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap,
and flourishing fresh leaves and blossomes did enwrap.

No

UNA AND THE LION

E. SPENSER

OW when broad day the world discovered has, up Una rose, up rose the lyon eke;

and on their former journey forward pass,

in ways unknowne, her wandring knight to seek, with paines far passing that long-wandring Greek that for his love refused deitye:

such were the labours of this lady meeke, still seeking him, that from her still did flye, then furthest from her hope, when most she weenéd

nye.

E. SPENSER

1222

1223

THE OCEAN

OLL on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll;

ROLL

ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; man marks the earth with ruin: his control stops with the shore; upon the watery plain the wrecks are all thy deed: nor doth remain a shadow of man's ravage, save his own, when, for a moment, like a drop of rain, he sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.

LORD BYRON

EFFECTS OF MAMMON'S SPEECH ON THE

ASSEMBLY

H

E scarce had finished, when such murmur filled the assembly, as when hollow rocks retain

1224

the sound of blustering winds, which all night long
had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
sea-faring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance,
or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay

after the tempest: such applause was heard
as Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased
advising peace; for such another field
they dreaded worse than Hell.

THE

CLOANTHUS TO IARBAS

J. MILTON

'HERE is a place, Hesperia termed by us,
an ancient empire, famouséd for arms,

and fertile in fair Ceres' furrowed wealth,
which now we call Italia, of his name

that in such peace long time did rule the same.
Thither made we;

when, suddenly, gloomy Orion rose,

and led our ships into the shallow sands,
whereas the southern wind, with brackish breath,
dispersed them all amongst the wrackful rocks;
from thence a few of us escaped to land;
the rest, we fear, are folded in the floods.

12251

C. MARLOWE

LOOKED and hovering o'er the flowery turf
were seen innumerable shapes, whose wings
waved in the wind or o'er the glittering field
who trod in silence. Care with lowering frown
slow stalked; and Slander, speckled as the snake
that stings the unwary traveller, along

the tainted earth trailed loose, or borne on wings
blue as the brimstone's gleam in secret shot
her poisoned arrows. Pining Envy gnawed
a blasted laurel, from the locks of Fame
snatched, as the goddess to her lips applied
her mighty trump, and swelled a solemn note*
to Homer's venerable name.

1226 BEAUT,

EAUTIFUL, why wilt thou die? Is the light of the sun, then, so worthless,

worthless to sport with thy fellows in flowery glades of the forest,

1227

1228

under the broad green oaks, where never again shall I wander,

tossing the ball with my maidens, or wreathing the altar in garlands,

careless, with dances and songs, till the glens rang loud to our laughter?

Too full of death the great earth is already: the halls full of weepers;

quarried by tombs all cliffs; and the bones gleam white on the sea-floor,

numberless, gnawn by the herds who attend on the pitiless sea-gods,

even as mine will be soon: and yet noble it seems to me, dying,

giving my life for a people, to save to the arms of their lovers

maidens and youths for awhile: thee, fairest of all, shall I slay thee?

AH

SIR BEDIVERE

C. KINGSLEY

H! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, when every morning brought a noble chance, and every chance brought out a noble Knight. Such times have not been since the light that led the holy elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Round Table is dissolved, which was an image of the mighty world; and I, the last, go forth companionless, and the days darken round me, and the years, among new men, strange faces, other minds.

A

I

A. TENNYSON

CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAIN

T was a mountain at whose verdant feet

a spacious plain, outstretched in circuit wide,
lay pleasant: from his side two rivers flowed,

the one winding, the other straight, and left between
fair champain with less rivers interveined,
then meeting joined their tribute to the sea;
fertile of corn the glebe, of oil and wine;

with herds the pastures thronged, with flocks the

hills;

huge cities and high-towered, that well might seem
the seats of mightiest monarchs; and so large

the prospect was, that here and there was room
for barren desert, fountainless and dry.

1229 He looked, and saw what numbers numberless
the city gates outpoured, light-armed troops,
in coats of mail and military pride;

in mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong,
prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice
of many provinces from bound to bound.

He saw them in their forms of battle ranged,
how quick they wheeled, and flying behind them shot
sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face
of their pursuers, and overcame by flight;
the field all iron cast a gleaming brown.

J. MILTON

1230

O the Eagle,

THE EAGLE

that bears the thunder of our grandsire Jove, with joy beholds his hardy youthful offspring forsake the nest, to try his tender pinions in the wide untracked air: till, bolder grown, now, like a whirlwind, on a shepherd's fold he darts precipitate and gripes the prey; or fixing on some dragon's scaly hide, eager of combat and his future feast, bears him aloft reluctant and in vain wreathing his spiry tail.

1231

LYCIDAS

J. ROWE

YET

ET once more, O ye laurels, and once more
ye myrtles brown, with ivy never-sere,

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude;
and with forced fingers rude

shatter your leaves before the mellowing year:
bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
compels me to disturb your season due;
for Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,

young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer. Who would not sing for Lycidas? He knew himself to sing, and build the lofty rime. He must not float upon his watery bier unwept, and welter to the parching wind, without the meed of some melodious tear. 1232 For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, fed the same flock by fountain, shade and rill; together both, ere the high lawns appeared under the opening eyelids of the morn, we drove a-field, and both together heard what time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn, battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, oft till the star that rose at evening, bright, toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute,

tempered to the oaten flute;

rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel from the glad sound would not be absent long, and old Damotas loved to hear our song.

1233 But O the heavy change, now thou art gone,
now thou art gone, and never must return!
Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves
with wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown,
and all their echoes mourn:

the willows, and the hazel-copses green,
shall now no more be seen

fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.

As killing as the canker to the rose,

or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, when first the white-thorn blows;

such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear.

1234 Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas?

for neither were ye playing on the steep,
where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,
nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,

nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream.
Ay me, I fondly dream!

had ye been there...for what could that have done?
what could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,
the Muse herself for her enchanting son,

whom universal Nature did lament,