Page:The Complete Poetical Works of John Milton.djvu/415

 POEMS IN VARIOUS METRES

��373

��Ah I pereant herbae, pereant artesque me-

deutum, Gramina, postquam ipsi nil profecere ma-

gistro ! Ipse etiam nam nescio quid mihi grande

sonabat Fistula ab undecima jam lux est altera

uocte

Et turn forte novis admoram labra cicutis: Dissiluere tamen, rupta compage, uec ultra Ferre graves portnere sonos: dubito quoque

lie sim Turgidulus; tamen et referam; vos cedite,

sylvae. 160

" Ite domum impasti; domino jam uon

vacat, agni. Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per sequora

puppes Dicam, et Pandrasidos regnum vetus Ino-

genise, Brennumqtie Arviragumque duces, pris-

cumque Belinuin, Et tandem Armoricos Britouum sub lege

colonos; Turn gravidam Arturo fatali fraude Ib'ger-

nen; Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois

arma,

Merlini dolus. O, mihi turn si vita super- sit,

Tu procul annosa pendebis, fistula, pinu Multum oblita mihi, aut patriis mutata

Camcenis 170

Brittonicum strides ! Quid enim ? omniu

non licet uni, Non sperasse uni licet omuia; mi satis

ampla Merces, et mihi grande decus (sim ignotus

in sevum Turn licet, externo penitusque inglorius

orbi), Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor

Alauni, Vorticibusqne frequens Abra, et nemus

omne Treantae, Et Thamesis meus ante omnes, et fusca

inetallis Tamara, et extremis me discant Orcades

undis. "Ite domum impasti; domino jam non

vacat, agni.

Haec tibi servabam lenta sub cortice lauri, Hsec, et plura simul; turn quae mihi pocula

Mansus, 181

Mansus, Chalcidicse non ultima gloria rips,

��healing ! They could not profit their mas- ter ! Medicine was thy loved pursuit, but I too 't is eleven nights and a day now since I ah, I know not what large strain my pipe was trying to sound I was ac- customing my lips to new reeds perhaps: suddenly the fastening burst; the reeds Hew asunder, unable to endure longer the grave sounds to which I racked them. I know not perhaps I am over-bold; still, I will tell about it. Give way, my pastoral song, to a sterner theme.

" Go to your folds unfed, my lambs ; your master is troubled. I am about to siug of the Trojan ships that passed along our Kentish coast, and the old realm of Imogene, Brut's wife, and the ancient chiefs Brenuus and Arviragus and Belinus, and the colo- nists who settled in Armorica under Brit- ish laws. Then I shall tell of Igraine, pregnant with Arthur through the fatal wizardry of Merlin, who gave to Uther Pendragon the face and the armor of her husband Gorloi's. Oh then, if life is granted me, thou, my shepherd-pipe, shalt hang neglected on the gnarled pine, or be changed to shrill forth the strains of my native land, and the cry of Britons in battle. Native strains, do I say ? Yea, one man cannot hope to accomplish all things. It will be sufficient reward and honor for me, even though I remain forever unknown and in- glorious among the other nations of the world, if only blond-haired Ouse shall read me, and he who drinks of Alan-water, and the whirling Humber, and the woods of Trent ; above all, if my Thames shall sing my songs, and Tamur mineral - stained, and the far-off wave-beaten Orkneys.

" Go to your folds unfed, my lambs ; your master is troubled. All these plans and dreams I was keeping for thee, wrapped in tough laurel-bark, these and more be- sides. I dreamed of showing thee the two cups which Manso gave me, Manso, not the least glory of the Neapolitan shore. They

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