wreathed

The blazing altars round, appear en400 Upon their brows with poplar branches: this

A choir of striplings, that-of aged [sires], Who in their hymn the lauds of Hercules, And his achievements, celebrate : how first His step-dame's monster-forms and pair of snakes,

Crushing them in his hand, he strangled; how

In war choice cities he, the same, o'erthrew, Both Troja and Echalia; how sore toils, A thousand, under king Eurystheus, he Endured through doom of Juno the unjust. "Thou, O unconquerable [hero, slay'st] The children of the cloud, of double limb, Hylæus e'en, and Pholus, with thy hand: Thou the monstrosities of Crete dost slay, And lion huge beneath Nemea's rock. 415 At thee have quaked the Stygian pools; at thee

423

Hell's porter, cow'ring o'er half-eaten bones
Within his gory cavern ; neither thee
Have any shapes, not e'en Typhæus, scared,
A giant grasping weapons; not devoid
Of pow'r of thought did thee beset around
The snake of Lerna with his host of heads.
All hail! indisputable son of Jove,
Thou glory added to the pow'rs divine!
Alike to us, and thine own holy [rites],
Draw near propitious with a fav'ring step."
The like [exploits] they celebrate in songs:
Above them all do they subjoin the cave
Of Cacus, e'en himself too, puffing forth
With blazes. All the woodland with the din
Rings out in concert, and the hills rebound.
Thereon,-the holy services complete,
They all betake them to the city back. 433
On fared the monarch, overwhelmed with
age,

And in his company Æneas, and his son
Close kept he to him as he foots along,
And eased the way with manifold discourse.
Æneas marvels, and his ready eyes
Round all he throws, and by the spots is
charmed,

411. This transition from the third to the second person is copied by Milton; as is remarked in Trollope's Anthon's Virgil:

"Both turn'd, and under open sky adored

The God that made both sky, air, earth, and
heaven,
Which they beheld; the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole: Thou also mad'st the night,
Maker Omnipotent, and Thou the day."

And one by one in joy both searches out, And hears, the legends of the men of yore. Then king Evander, founder of the tower Of Rome: "These groves the native Fauns and Nymphs 443 Were used t' inhabit, and a race of men Born from the boles [of trees] and sturdy oak:

Who had nor rule, nor elegance [of life]; Nor bulls to yoke, or gather wealth, they knew,

Or spare their gains: but branches and the chase,

Rugged in sustenance, purveyed support. First Saturn came from empyrean heaven, Flying Jove's arms, and from his wrested realm

45I

An exile. He the race untaught, and spread Through lofty mountains, settled, and their laws

Vouchsafed, and 'Latium' chose them to be called,

Since latent in these coasts he safe had lain.

The golden age, whereof they tell, was 'neath that king:

He so in calm of peace the nations ruled; Till step by step a worse, and tarnished

age,

And rage for war, and lust of gain ensued. Then came the Auson host, and Sic'ly's clans;

460 And Saturn's land too often laid aside Her name. Then kings, and Tybris, rough with frame

Immense; from whom have we Italians next
The river by the title Tyber called;
Old Albula hath lost its real name.
Myself, forth driven from my native land,
And following the ocean's utmost [bounds],
Almighty Fortune and resistless Fate
Have in these regions placed, and me have
forced

My mother nymph Carmentis' warnings dread, 470 And her inspirer-god Apollo." Scarce These [words] were spoken: then advancing on

66

He shows him both the altar, and the gate, Which Romans by the name Carmental' "" call,

P. L., b. iv. 422. Spenser has a grand description of a Dragon, and the Red Cross Knight's victory over him; F. Q., i. 11, 8-14, &c.

The Nymph Carmentis' compliment of old,
Presageful prophetess, who chanted first
That the Æneade would great become,
And Pallanteum famous. Farther on
The mighty grove, which mettled Romulus
Entitled the " Asylum," and beneath 480
An icy cliff" Lupercal" points he out,
According to Parrhasian fashion called
From the Lycæan Pan. E'en, too, does he
Point out the hallowed Argiletum's wood,
And calls the place to witness, and the
death

Of his guest Argus he explains. Thence leads

To the Tarpeian hold and Capitol, Now golden, bristling erst with savage brakes.

Already then dread rev'rence for the spot The quaking peasants awed; already then They shuddered at the forest and the rock.

"This grove, this hill," saith he, “with leafy crest,

492 What god, it is unsure,—a god doth haunt: Th' Arcadians hold that Jove himself they've seen,

When oft his darkling Ægis he would shake In his right hand, and thunder-clouds

Received. O guest, dare riches to despise, And mould thee also worthy of the god : And come not churlish to our poor estate." He said, and 'neath his narrow mansion's roof 511

The great Æneas led, and set him down, Cushioned upon a carpeting of leaves, And on the skin of a Libystine bear.

Night posts, and folds the earth with ebon wings.

But Venus, not in mind without a cause A mother scared, and by Laurentines' threats,

And ruffian uproar roused, Vulcan accosts, And from her husband's golden bed she these begins,

And o'er her accents breathes a heav'nly love :

520 "While in their warfare the Argolic kings Were laying waste the fated Pergamus, And, doomed to fall by hostile flames, its towers,

Not any succor for its wretched [sons], Not weapons of thy skill and power I asked ;

Nor thee, O dearest consort, or thy toils, Have I been willing idly to employ; Though both to Priam's sons full much I owed,

And oft Æneas' sore distress had wept. He now at Jove's behests hath settled down On the Rutulians' coasts: then I the same A suitress come, and of thy deity, revered By me, arms crave, a mother for a son. Thee Nereus' daughter, thee Tithonus' spouse 534 Could bend by tears. Behold, what hordes combine,

What towns with bolted gates the falchion whet

'Gainst me, and [for] the overthrow of mine !"

She said, and in her snowy arms, this side And that, the goddess, as he hesitates, Infolds him warmly with a soft embrace. He suddenly received the wonted flame, And the known heat his marrow pierced, and coursed 542 Through melting bones. No less than when at times

With flashing thunder burst, the chink of fire,

In brightness gleaming, races through the clouds.

His spouse perceived it, blithesome in her wiles,

And of her beauty conscious. Then the sire, Enchained in everlasting passion, speaks: "Why seekest thou for reasons from the deep?

Whither, O goddess, hath thy trust in me Departed? Had there been the like concern, 551 Then also lawful had it been for us To arm the Trojans ; nor th' almighty sire, Nor destinies forbade that Troy should stand,

And Priam through ten other years survive. And now, if thou to battle dost prepare, And this is thy resolve, engage can I Whate'er there be of travail in my craft,

544. Spenser employs the idea for a similar purpose:

"As the bonilasse passed bye,

Hey, ho, the bonilasse !

She rovde at mee with glauncing eye,
As cleare as the cristall glasse:

Or as the thonder cleaves the cloudes,
Hey, ho, the thonder!

Wherein the lightsome levin shroudes;
So cleaves thy soul asonder."

Shepheards Calender, August.
Differently in Faerie Queene, iii. 11-25:
""Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud;
And falling slower, in explosion vast,
The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The tempest growls; but, as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds: till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide: then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd, aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth."
Thomson, Summer.
"Her cheeks bewraying
As many amorous blushings, which brake out
Like forced lightning from a troubled cloud."
Shirley, The Maid's Revenge, i. 2.

In iron what is able to be wrought,
Or in the flux electrum, how so far 560
As fires and blasts have force: by suing

cease

To cast a doubt upon thy pow'rs." These words

He having said, the wished embraces gave, And, thrown upon the bosom of his spouse, He courted balmy slumber through his limbs.

Then soon as maiden rest, in mid career Of night, now chased away, had banished sleep,

When first the dame, on whom to nurture life

By distaff and Minerva scant 'tis laid,
The embers and the drowsèd fires awakes,
Night adding to her work, and by the lights
Her maids with tedious task she plies, that

580

By Cyclops' forges, its Etnean dens Thunder, and lusty dints, on stithies heard, Return a groan, and hiss within the vaults The Chalybs' bars, and in the furnaces Fire pants; the home of Vulcan, and the land

"Vulcania" by its title. Hither then The lord of fire came down from heav'n on high.

Iron were working in their monster den The Cyclops,-Brontes e'en, and Steropes, And, stript in limbs, Pyracmon. In their hands, 590 Unfashioned, with a part now burnished off, A levin-bolt there lay; full many which

569.

Minerva, skilful goddess, train'd the maid
To twirle the spindle by the twisting thread;
To fix the loom, instruct the reeds to part,
Cross the long weft, and close the web with art."
Parnell, Hesiod.

592. "Above our atmosphere's intestine wars
Rain's fountain-head, the magazine of hail;
Above the northern nests of feather'd snows,
The brew of thunders and the flaming forge
That forms the crooked lightning: above the caves,
Where infant tempests wait their growing wings,
And tune their tender voices to that roar,
Which soon, perhaps, shall shake a guilty world;
Above misconstrued omens of the sky,
Far-travell'd comets' calculated blaze;
Elance thy thought, and think of more than man."
Young, The Complaint, N. ix.

From the whole welkin doth the father hurl Adown upon the lands: part incomplete Remained. Three rayons of the writhen shower,

Three, had they added, of the wat❜ry cloud, Of vermeil fire and wingèd Auster three. Now flashes horror-fraught, and din and fear,

They in their work were blending, anger too,

With dogging flames. Elsewhere for Mars
They both a chariot and its flying wheels 601
Were speeding, wherewithal he rouses men,
Wherewith the cities; and the Ægis, dread
Inspiring, the impassioned Pallas' arms,
In rivalry with scales of snakes and gold
Were furbishing, and serpents interlinked,
And e'en the Gorgon on the goddess' breast,
Her eyeballs rolling, with a severed neck.
"Away with all!" he cries," and put aside
The toils that are commenced, ye Cyclops,
[brood]

611

Of Etna, and attention hither turn:
Arms for a gallant hero must be made.
There's now employment for your powers,

Hastes on, Evander from his lowly home Boon light awakes, and early songs of birds

622. "And eke the breathfule bellowes blew amaine." Spenser, F. Q., iv. 5, 36.

See note on Geo. iv. l. 235.

631. Wagner says: "Audivi tamen homines rusticanos affirmantes, sæpe se hirundinum garrientium strepitu e somno excitari." There is no doubt that many others also have been awaked in the same way; the author certainly has suffered the annoyance himself. Martens and swallows are exceedingly noisy at break of day, especially when engaged in building.

The British poets contain many passages of great beauty, descriptive of the early morning music of the feathered creation :

"Me mette thus in my bed all naked,
And looked forth, for I was waked
With smale foules a great hepe
That had afraied me out of my slepe,
Through noise and sweetness of hir song;
And as me mette, they sat among
Upon my chamber roofe without
Upon the tyles over all about."

Chaucer, Booke of the Dutchesse. "Wake now, my love, awake; for it is time; The rosy Morne long since left Tithons bed, Allready to her silver coche to clyme; And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt their laies,

And carroll of loves praise.

The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft;
The thrush replyes; the mavis descant playes;
The ouzell shrills; the ruddock warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this dayes merriment."

Spenser, Epithalamion.

"Then from her burnish'd gate the goodly glitt'ring east

Gilds every lofty top, which late the humorous night

Bespangled had with pearl, to please the morning's sight:

On which the mirthful quires, with their clear open throats,

Unto the joyful morn so strain their warbling notes,

That hills and valleys ring, and even the echoing air

Seems all compos'd of sounds, about them every where." Drayton, Polyolbion, Song xiii.

Beneath the roof. Up springs the aged [king],

And with a tunic o'er his limbs is robed,

"Now Morn, her rosy steps with eastern clime
Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam waked, so custom'd; for his sleep
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which the only
sound

Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough."

Milton, P. L., b. v. 1-8.
"To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good morrow,
Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before." L'Allegro.
"The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,

The swallow twittering from the straw-built

shed,

bed."

The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly Gray, Elegy, 5. "Lull'd by the drowsy din in sleep I lay, Till from the East pale gleam'd the dubious day; Till chanticleer his merry notes begun,

Thrice clapt his wings, and call'd the lingering

Sun.

Rous'd by his orisons from sweet repose, I shook off slumbers as the morning rose; The morning rose, but shed a languid light, And down in ocean sunk the queen of night. Then jackdaws chatter'd on the chimney high; And cranes pursued their voyage thro' the sky. Perch'd on a tree that nigh my chamber grew, The kite began her lamentable pew, Whereby the dawning of the day I knew." Fawkes, Translation of Gawin Douglas' Winter. To this and Douglas' other beautiful poem, on May, it is easy to see that Milton owed no small obligations.

"Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin

To ope their golden eyes;

With every thing that pretty is:

My lady sweet, arise;

Arise, arise." Shakespeare, Cymbeline, ii. 3. "How is't each bough a several music yields? The lusty throstle, early nightingale, Accord in tune, though vary in their tale; The chirping swallow call'd forth by the sun, And crested lark doth his division run? The yellow bees the air with murmur fill, The finches carol, and the turtles bill?"

Ben Jonson, Vision of Delight.

"See, the day regins to break,
And the lights shoot like a streak
Of subtle fire; the wind blows cold,
Whilst the morning doth unfold;

661

Not far away from this is peopled, reared
Of aged stone, Argylla's city's seat;
Where erst a Lydian race, renowned in war,
Upon Etruscan mountains settled down.

Now the birds begin to rouse,
And the squirrel from the boughs
Leaps, to get him nuts and fruit;
The early lark, that erst was mute,
Carols to the rising day

Many a note and many a lay."

J. Fletcher, The Faithful Shepherdess, iv. 5. "What bird so sings, yet does so wail? O, 'tis the ravish'd nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu she cryes, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song! Who is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat Poor robin redbreast times his note; Hark, how the jolly cuckoes sing Cuckoe, to welcome in the Spring." Lilly, Alexander and Campaspe. See Weber's note on "Song by Delight;" Ford's Sun's Darling, ii. 1.