Poemata : Latin, Greek and Italian Poems Part 7

Oh that Pieria's spring1 would thro' my breast Pour its inspiring influence, and rush No rill, but rather an o'erflowing flood!

That, for my venerable Father's sake All meaner themes renounced, my Muse, on wings Of Duty borne, might reach a loftier strain.

For thee, my Father! howsoe'er it please, She frames this slender work, nor know I aught, That may thy gifts more suitably requite; Though to requite them suitably would ask 10 Returns much n.o.bler, and surpa.s.sing far The meagre stores of verbal grat.i.tude.

But, such as I possess, I send thee all.

This page presents thee in their full amount With thy son's treasures, and the sum is nought; Naught, save the riches that from airy dreams In secret grottos and in laurel bow'rs, I have, by golden Clio's2 gift, acquir'd.

Verse is a work divine; despise not thou Verse therefore, which evinces (nothing more) 20 Man's heav'nly source, and which, retaining still Some scintillations of Promethean fire, Bespeaks him animated from above.

The G.o.ds love verse; the infernal Pow'rs themselves Confess the influence of verse, which stirs The lowest Deep, and binds in triple chains Of adamant both Pluto and the shades.

In verse the Delphic priestess, and the pale Tremulous Sybil make the Future known, And He who sacrifices, on the shrine 30 Hangs verse, both when he smites the threat'ning bull, And when he spreads his reeking entrails wide To scrutinize the Fates envelop'd there.

We too, ourselves, what time we seek again Our native skies, and one eternal Now Shall be the only measure of our Being, Crown'd all with gold, and chanting to the lyre Harmonious verse, shall range the courts above, And make the starry firmament resound.

And, even now, the fiery Spirit pure 40 That wheels yon circling orbs, directs, himself, Their mazy dance with melody of verse Unutt'rable, immortal, hearing which Huge Ophiuchus3 holds his hiss suppress'd, Orion, soften'd, drops his ardent blade, And Atlas stands unconscious of his load.

Verse graced of old the feasts of kings, ere yet Luxurious dainties destin'd to the gulph Immense of gluttony were known, and ere Lyaeus4 deluged yet the temp'rate board. 50 Then sat the bard a customary guest To share the banquet, and, his length of locks With beechen honours bound, proposed in verse The characters of Heroes and their deeds To imitation, sang of Chaos old, Of Nature's birth, of G.o.ds that crept in search Of acorns fall'n, and of the thunderbolt Not yet produc'd from Aetna's fiery cave.

And what avails, at last, tune without voice, Devoid of matter? Such may suit perhaps 60 The rural dance, but such was ne'er the song Of Orpheus, whom the streams stood still to hear And the oaks follow'd. Not by chords alone Well-touch'd, but by resistless accents more To sympathetic tears the Ghosts themselves He mov'd: these praises to his verse he owes.

Nor Thou persist, I pray thee, still to slight The sacred Nine, and to imagine vain And useless, Pow'rs by whom inspir'd, thyself Art skillfill to a.s.sociate verse with airs 70 Harmonious, and to give the human voice A thousand modulations, heir by right Indisputable of Arion's fame.5 Now say, what wonder is it, if a son Of thine delight in verse, if so conjoin'd In close affinity, we sympathize In social arts and kindred studies sweet?

Such distribution of himself to us Was Phoebus' choice; thou hast thy gift, and I Mine also, and between us we receive, 80 Father and son, the whole inspiring G.o.d.

No. Howsoe'er the semblance thou a.s.sume Of hate, thou hatest not the gentle Muse, My Father! for thou never bad'st me tread The beaten path and broad that leads right on To opulence, nor did'st condemn thy son To the insipid clamours of the bar, To laws voluminous and ill observ'd, But, wishing to enrich me more, to fill My mind with treasure, led'st me far away 90 From city-din to deep retreats, to banks And streams Aonian,6 and, with free consent Didst place me happy at Apollo's side.

I speak not now, on more important themes Intent, of common benefits, and such As Nature bids, but of thy larger gifts My Father! who, when I had open'd once The stores of Roman rhetoric, and learn'd The full-ton'd language, of the eloquent Greeks, Whose lofty music grac'd the lips of Jove, 100 Thyself did'st counsel me to add the flow'rs That Gallia7 boasts, those too with which the smooth Italian his degentrate speech adorns, That witnesses his mixture with the Goth, And Palestine's prophetic songs divine.8 To sum the whole, whate'er the Heav'n contains, The Earth beneath it, and the Air between, The Rivers and the restless deep, may all Prove intellectual gain to me, my wish Concurring with thy will; Science herself, 110 All cloud removed, inclines her beauteous head And offers me the lip, if, dull of heart, I shrink not and decline her gracious boon.

Go now, and gather dross, ye sordid minds That covet it; what could my Father more, What more could Jove himself, unless he gave His own abode, the heav'n in which he reigns?

More eligible gifts than these were not Apollo's to his son, had they been safe As they were insecure, who made the boy 120 The world's vice-luminary, bade him rule The radiant chariot of the day, and bind To his young brows his own all dazzling-wreath.

I therefore, although last and least, my place Among the Learned in the laurel-grove Will hold, and where the conqu'ror's ivy twines, Henceforth exempt from th'unletter'd throng Profane, nor even to be seen by such.

Away then, sleepless Care, Complaint away, And Envy, with thy "jealous leer malign" 130 Nor let the monster Calumny shoot forth Her venom'd tongue at me. Detested foes!

Ye all are impotent against my peace, For I am privileged, and bear my breast Safe, and too high, for your viperean wound.

But thou my Father! since to render thanks Equivalent, and to requite by deeds Thy liberality, exceeds my power, Sufffice it, that I thus record thy gifts, And bear them treasur'd in a grateful mind! 140 Ye too, the favourite pastime of my youth, My voluntary numbers, if ye dare To hope longevity, and to survive Your master's funeral pile, not soon absorb'd In the oblivious Lethaean gulph Shall to Futurity perhaps convey This theme, and by these praises of my sire Improve the Fathers of a distant age.

1 A fount sacred to the Muses. 2 The Muse of History.

3 The Serpent, a constellation.

4 Bacchus, or Wine.

5 John Milton Sr. was a fine musician. Arion was a lyric poet of Methymna, in Lesbos, who was saved from drowning by dolphins which he charmed with his song.

6 Aonia is a plain in Boeotia. 7 France.

8 The Old Testament Scriptures.

Psalm CXIV 1

When Israel by Jehovah call'd From Egypt's hostile plain, Pour'd forth in numbers as the Sand And sought the adjacent main: Then G.o.d descended from on high To lead the favour'd Race To rule o'er Jacob, & his Name In Judah's Tribe to place.

The Sea at their approach alarm'd In wild amazement fled 10 And Jordan's flood was driven back Within it's fountainhead.

The Mountains from their basis shook Confess'd the Parent G.o.d!

With sudden throws like Rams they skipp'd And broken, fell abroad.

The little Hills by the same power Were from their Center torn Like Lambs resistless they gave way In Tumult wild, upborn. 20 Ye Waves what strange amazement, say, Seiz'd on you that you fled?

Thou Jordan too! On Israel's march, Why driven to thy Head?

Ye Mountains whence this sudden fright That shook you from your base?

And whence, ye little Hills, your flight From Israel's chosen Race?

Tremble thou Earth! Jehovah leads, And guards the might Host! 30 That G.o.d, who by his awful Word, Commands the Stream to flow2 From flinty Rocks; & pouring thence, To form the Lake below.

1 Translated from the Latin, and not Milton's Greek poem. Milton's own English version, presented below, was done, he tells us, "at fifteen years old."

2 See Exodus, chapter I7.

Psalm CXIV

When the blest seed of Terah's faithful Son,1 After long toil their liberty had won, And past from Pharian2 fields to Canaan Land, Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand, Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, His praise and glory was in Israel known.

That saw the troubl'd Sea, and shivering fled, And sought to hide his froth-becurled head Low in the earth, Jordan's clear streams recoil, As a faint host that hath receiv'd the foil. 10 The high, huge-bellied Mountains skip like Rams Amongst their Ewes, the little Hills like Lambs.

Why fled the Ocean? And why skip'd the Mountains?

Why turned Jordan toward his Crystal Fountains?

Shake earth, and at the presence be aghast Of him that ever was, and ay shall last, That gla.s.sy floods from rugged rocks can crush, And make soft rills from the fiery flint-stones gush.

1 Abraham. 2 Egyptian.

The Philosopher and the King.

A Philosopher, included in the same sentence of condemnation with several guilty persons among whom he had been apprehended, sent the following lines, composed suddenly in the moment when he was going to death, to a certain King whom had ignorantly condemned him.

Know this, O King! that if thou shalt destroy Me, no man's enemy and who have liv'd Obedient to the Laws, thou may'st with ease Strike off a wise man's head, but, taught the truth Hereafter, shalt with vain regret deplore Thy city's loss of One, her chief support.

On the Engraver of his Portrait.1

Survey my Features--you will own it clear That little skill has been exerted here.

My Friends, who know me not here smile to see How ill the model and the work agree.

1 Greek lines placed by Milton beneath the engraved portrait of himself by William Marshall in the I645 edition of his poems. The handsome Milton disliked Marshall's picture and took revenge with this epigram, which Marshall, ignorant of Greek, engraved beneath the portrait.

Another Translation of the Same.2

Look on myself--you will own at once This Copy of me, taken by a Dunce.

My Friends, who gaze and guess not whom ye see, Laugh! Would ye think it? He intended me!

To Giovanni Salzilli, a Roman Poet, in his Illness.

Scazons.1

My halting Muse, that dragg'st by choice along Thy slow, slow step, in melancholy song!

And lik'st that pace expressive of thy cares Not less than Diopeia's2 sprightlier airs When in the dance she beats with measur'd tread Heav'n's floor in front of Juno's golden bed, Salute Salsillus, who to verse divine Prefers, with partial love, such lays as mine.

Thus writes that Milton then, who wafted o'er From his own nest on Albion's stormy sh.o.r.e 10 Where Eurus, fiercest of th'Aeolian band, Sweeps with ungovern'd rage the blasted land, Of late to more serene Ausonia came To view her cities of ill.u.s.trious name, To prove, himself a witness of the truth, How wise her elders, and how learn'd her Youth.

Much good, Salsillus! and a body free From all disease, that Milton asks for thee, Who now endur'st the languor, and the pains That bile inflicts diffus'd through all thy veins, 20 Relentless malady! not mov'd to spare By thy sweet Roman voice, and Lesbian air!

Health, Hebe's sister, sent us from the skies, And thou, Apollo, whom all sickness flies, Pythius, or Paean, or what name divine Soe'er thou chuse, haste, heal a priest of thine!

Ye groves of Faunus, and ye hills that melt With vinous dews, where meek Evander3 dwelt!

If aught salubrious in your confines grow, Strive which shall soonest heal your poet's woe, 30 That, render'd to the Muse he loves, again He may enchant the meadows with his strain.

Numa, reclin'd in everlasting ease Amid the shade of dark embow'ring trees, Viewing with eyes of unabated fire His loved Aegeria, shall that strain admire: So sooth'd, the tumid Tiber shall revere The tombs of kings, nor desolate the year, Shall curb his waters with a friendly rein, And guide them harmless till they meet the main. 40

1 The original is written in a measure called Scazon, which signifies limping, and the measure is so denominated, because, though in other respects Iambic, it terminates with a Spondee, and has consequently a more tardy movement.

The reader will immediately see that this property of the Latin verse cannot be imitated in English.--W.C.