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in law, for despising the continual admonitions of Lot. Then, calling to the thunders, lightning, and fires, he bids them heare the call and command of God, to come and destroy a godlesse nation. He brings them down with some short waruing to other nations to
take heed. Iv. Moabitides, or Phineas. The epitasis
whereof may lie in the contention, first, tetween the father of Zimri and Eleazer, whether he [ought] to have slain his son without law? Next, the ambassadors of the Moabites, expostulating about Cosbi, a stranger and a noble woman, şlain by Phineas.
It may be argued about reformation and punishment illegal, and, as it were, by tumult. After all arguments driven home, then the word of the Lord may brought, acquitting and ap
proving Phineas. Ivi. Christus Patiens. The Scene, in the
garden. Beginning, from the comming thither, till Judas betraies, and the officers lead hiin away. The rest by Message and Chorus.
His agony may raceav noble expres
sions, Ivii. Christ born. liij. Herod massacring, or Rachel weeping.
Ix. Christ crucifi'd.
martyrd by Hinguar the Dane. See
Speed, L. viii, C. ii. lxxii. Sigbert, tyrant of the West-Saxons,
slaine by a stoinheard. Ixxiii. Edmund, brother of Athelstan, slaine by a
theefe at his owne table. Malmesb. lxxiv. Edwin, son to Edward the younger, for
lust depriv'd of his kingdom, or rather by faction of monks, whome he hated ; toge
ther [with] the impostor Dunstan. lxxv. Edward, son of Edgar, murder'd by his
step-mother. To which may be inserted the tragedies stirr d'up betwixt the
monks and priests about mariage. Ixxvi. Etheldred, son of Edgar, a slothful king;
the ruin of his land by the Danes. Ixxvii. Ceaulin, king of the West-Saxons, for
tyrannie depos'd and banish't; and de Ixxviii. The slaughter of the monks of Bangor
by Edelfride, stirr'd up, as is said, by Ethelbert, and ke by Austine the monke; because the Britains would not receave the rites of the Roman church. See Bede, Geffrey Monmouth, and Holinshed, p. 104. Which must begin with the convocation of British Clergie by Austin to determine superfluous points, which by
them were refused. Ixxix. Edwin, by vision, promis'd the kingdom of
Northumberland on promise of his conversion; and therein establish't by Rodoald,
king of [the] East-Angles. lxxx. Oswin, king of Deira, slaine by Oswie
his friend, king of Bernitia, through instigation of flatterers. See Holinsh. p.
115. lxxxi. Sigibert, of the East-Angles, keeping
companie with a person excommunicated, slaine by the same man in his house, according as the bishop Cedda had forc
told. Ixxxii. Egfride, king of the Northumbers, slaine
in battle against the Picts; having before wasted Ireland, and made warre for no reason on men that ever lou'd the En. glish; forewarn'd al o by Cuthbert not
lo fight with the Ficts. lxxxiii. Rincwulf, king of the West-Saxons,
slaine by Kineard in the house of one of
his concubins. Ixxxiv. Gunthildis, the Danish ladie, with her
husband Palingus, and her son, slaine by the appointment of the traitor Edrick, in king Ethelred's days. Holinsh. L. vii. C. v. together with the massacre of the
Danes at Oxford. Speed. 1xxxv, Brightrick, (king) of (the) West-Saxons,
poyson'd by his wife Ethelburge, Offa's daughter; who dyes miserably also, in beggery, after adultery, in a nunnery.
Speed in Bithrick. lxxxvi. Alfred, in disguise of a minstrel, discovers
the Danes' negligence; sets on (them) with a mightie slaughter. About the same tyme the Devonshire men rout
Hubba, and slay him. lxxxvii. Athelstan exposing his brother Edwin to
the sea, and repenting,
Ixjii. The cloister-king Constans set up by
Vorliger. Venutius, husband to Car
tismandua. Ixiv. Vortiger poison'd by Roena. Ixv. Vortiger immurd. Vortiger marrying
Roena. See Speed. Reproov'd by Vodin, archbishop of London. Speed. The massacre of the Britains by Hengist in thire cups at Salisbury plaine.
Malmsbury. lxvi. Sigher, of the East-Saxons, revolted
from the faith, and reclaimed by Jaru
mang. Lxvü. Ethelbert, of the East-Angles, slain by
Offa the Mercian. See Holish. L. vi.
Ethelbert. lxviii. Sebert slaine by Penda, after he had lefi
his kingdom. See Holiushed, p. 116. Ixix. Wulfer slaying his tow sons for becing
Christians. lxx, Osbert, of Northumberland, slain for ra
vishing the wife of Bernbucard, and the Danes brought in. See Stow, Holinsh, L. vi. C. xii. And especially Speed, Lo
viii. C. ïi. bxxi, Edmund, last king of the East-Angles,
lxxxviii, Edgar slaying Ethelwold for false play caus'd the victorie, &c. Scotch story, p. in wooing. Wherein may be set out
155 &c. his pride, and lust, which he thought to xcix. Kenneth, who, having privily poison'd close by favouring monks and building
Malcolm Duffe that his own son might
Scotch monasteries. Also the disposition of
succeed, is slain by Fenella. woman in Elfrida towards her hus
Hist. p. 157, 158, &c. band. [Peck proposes, and justly, C, Macbeth. Beginning at the arrivall of I think, to read cloke instead of close.]
Malcolm at Mackduffe. The matter of Ixxxix. Swane beseidging London, and Ethelred Duncan may be express't by the ap repuls't by the Londomers.
pearing of his ghost, xc. Harold slaine in battel, by William the
Norman. The first scene may begin
LYCIDAS. and brother dissuading him. xci. Edmund Ironside defeating the Danes In this Moxody, the author bewails a learned at Brentford; with his combat with Ca
friend, unfortunately drowned in his passage nute.
from Chester on the Irish seas, 1637. And by xcii. Edmund Ironside murder'd by Edrick the occasion foretells the ruin of our corrupted traitor, and reveng'd by Canute.
clergy, then in their height, xciii. Gunilda, daughter to king Canute and
[Edward King, the subject of this Monody, Emma, wife to Henry III. emperour, was the son of sir John King, knight, secretary accus'd of inchastilie ; defended by her
for Ireland, under queen Elizabeth, James the English page in combat against a giant- first, and Charles the first. He was sailing like adversary; who by him at two blows from Chester to Ireland, on a visit to his is slaine, &c. Speed in the life of Ca- friends and relations in that country: these nute.
were, his brother sir Robert King, knight; xciv. Hardiknule dying in his cups: an exam- and his sisters, Anne wife of sir George Caulple to riot.
field lord Claremont, and Margaret, abovexcv. Edward the Confessor's divorsing and im- mentioned, wife of sir George Loder, chief prisoning his noble wise Editha, God
justice of Ireland ; Edward King bishop of win's daughter. Wherin is showed his
Elphin, by whom he was baptized ; and Wilover-affection to strangers, the cause
liam Chappel, then dean of Cashel, and proof Godwin's insurrection. Wherein
vost of Dublin college, who had been his tutor Godwin's forbearance of battel, prajs'd;
at Christ's college Cambridge, and was afterand the English moderation on both
wards bishop of Cork and Ross, and in this passides, magnifi'd, His [Edward's] slack
toral is probably the same person that is styled nesse to redresse the corrupt clergie, old Damoetas, v. 36. When, in calm weather, and superstitious prætence of chas- not far from the English coast, the ship, a very titie,
crazy vessel, a fatal and perfidious bark, struck on a rock, and suddenly sunk to the bottom with all that were on board, no one escaping, Aug. 10, 1637. King was now only twenty
five years old. He was perhaps a native of IreSCOTCH STORIES, OR RATHER BRI.
land. TISH OF THE NORTH PARTS.
At Cambridge, he was distinguished for his piety,
and proficiency in polite literature. He has
no inelegant copy of Latin iambics prefixed to xcvi. Athirco slain by Natholochus, whose a Latin comedy called Senile Odium, acted at
daughters he had ravish'l; and this Na- Queen's college, Cambridge, by the youth of
Nec fagra Megæræ ferrea horrendùm into, xcvii. Luffe and Donwald. A strange story
Venena nulla, præter illa dulcia xcviii. Haie, the plowman, who, with his two Amoris ; atque his vim abstulere noxiam
sons that were at plow, running to the bat- Casti lepores, innocua festivitas,
Public Verses of his time. He has a copy of
What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, Latin iambics, in the Anthologia on the
The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, King's Recovery, Cantab. 1632. 4to. p. 43. Whom universal Nature did lament, 60 Of Latin elegiacs, in the Genethliacum Acad. When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, Cantabrig. Ibid. 1631. 4to. p. 39. Of Latin His goary visage down the stream was sent, iambics in Rex Redur, Ibid. 1633. 4to. p. 14.
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? See also ETNNAIA, from Cambridge, Ibid.
Alas! what boots it with incessant care 1637. 4to. Signat. C. 3.]
To tend tbe homely, slighted, shepherd's trade,
Aud strictly meditate the thankless Muser YEt once more, O ye laurels, and once more
Were it not better done, as others use, Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never-sere,
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude :
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair? And, with forc'd fingers rude,
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise Shatter your leaves befure the mellowing year:
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
71 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
To scorn delights and live laborious days; Compels me to disturb your season due :
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer :
Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew
« But not the And slits the thin-spun life.'
10 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
praise,” He must not float upon his watery bier
Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears; Unsept, and welter to the parching wind,
“Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Nor in the glistering foil Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies : That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring;
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,
81 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
And perfect witness of all-judging Jore; Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse :
As he pronounces lastly on each deed, So may some gentle Muse
Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed.” With lucky words favour my destin'd urn; 30
O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd food, And, as he passes, turn,
Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds! And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud.
That strain I heard was of a higher mood : For we were nurs'd upon the self-same hill,
But now my oat proceeds, Ped the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill.
And listens to the herald of the sea Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd
That came in Neptune's plea;
90 Under the opening eye-lids of the Morn,
He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, We drove afield, and both together heard
What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain? What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn,
And question'd every gust of rugged wings Battening our docks with the fresh dews of night, That blows from off each beaked promontory : Oft till the star, that rose, at evening bright, 30 They knew not of his story; Toward Heaven's descent had slop'd his wester- That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd 3
And sage Hippotades their answer brings, ing wheel. Mean while the rural ditties were not mute,
The air was calm, and on the level brine Temper'd to the oaten fute ;
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.
100 Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with cloven heel
It was that fatal and perfidious bark, From the glad sound would not be absent long ;
Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, And old Damotas lov'd to hear our song.
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. But, О the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, Now thou art gone, and never must return !
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Tbee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'er.
Like to that sanguine flower inscrib’d with woe. grown,
“Ah! who hath reft “ (quoth he)” my dearest And all their echoes moum :
Last came, and last did go, (pledge?” The willows, and the hazel copses green,
The pilot of the Galilean Jake; Shall now no more be seen
Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, 110 Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amajn,) As killing as the canker to the rose,
He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake: Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,
“ How well could I have spar'd for thee young Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear,
swain, When first the white-thorn blows;
Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear.
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorse
Of other care they little reckoning make, less deep
Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, Closid o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? 51
And shove away the worthy bidden guest; For neither were ye playing on the steep,
blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,
to hold Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream:
That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! 121 Ay me! I fondly dream!
What recks it them? What need they? They Had ye been there for what could that have
And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: Grate on their scrapnel pipes of wretched straw; And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, And now was dropt into the western bay: 191 But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they at last he rose, and twitch'd his mantie blue: draw,
To morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing sed : But that two-handed engine at the door 130 ORIGINAL Various READINGS OF LYCIDAS, Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.” Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
From Milton's MS, in bis own hand. That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Ver, 10. Who would not sing for Lycidas, he Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues.
well knew. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Ver. 22. To bid faire peace, &c. Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, Ver, 26. Under the glimmering eye-lids, &c. On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks; Ver. 30, Oft till the even-starre bright Throw bither all your quaint enamell's eyes,
Towards Heaven's descent had sloapt That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
bis burnishe wheel. And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Ver. 47. Or frost to flowres that their gay but, Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 142
tons wear. The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
Here bear had been written, and erased, before The white pink, and the pansy freak’d with jet, The glowing violet,
Ver. 58. What could the golden-hagr'd Calliope The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
For her inchaunting son, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
When she beheld (the gods far-sighted And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
bee) Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
His goarie scali rucole downe the Thras And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150
cian lee. 'To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies. Herc, after inchaunting son, occurs in the For, so to interpose a little ease,
margin Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise ;
Whome universal Nature might lament, Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
And Heaven and Hel deplore, Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurld,
When bis divine head downe the streame Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
was sent. Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, The line And Heaven, &c. is erased : divine Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ;
head is also altered to divine visage, and af: Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,
terwards to goary visage. Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160 Ver., 69. Hid in the tangles, &c. Where the great vision of the guarded mount Ver. 83. Oh fountain Arethuse, and, thou smooth Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ;
flood, Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth:
Soft-sliding Mincius. And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. Smooth is then altered to fam'd, and next to ko.
Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no nourd: And soft-sliding to smooth-sliding, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, [more, Ver. 105. Scraul'd ore with figures dim. Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; Inwrought is in the margin. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
Ver. 129. Daily derours apace, and little sed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 169
Nothing is erased. And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Ver. 138. On whose fresh lap the swart star stinte Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:
ly looks. So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
At first sparely, as at present. Through the dear might of him that walk'd the Ver. 139. Bring hitber, &c. waves;
Ver. 142. Bring the rathe primrose that unxed. Where, other groves and other streams along,
ded dies, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
Colouring the pale cheek of uninjoy'd love; And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
And that sad floure that strute In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
To write his own woes on the permeil There entertain him all the saints above,
graine: In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
Next, adde Narcissus t' at still weeps in That sing, and, singing in their glory, move,
raine ; And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
The woodbine, and the pancie freak't Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more;180
with jet, Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,
The glowing violet, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
The cowslip wan that hangs kis pensive To all that wander in that perilous flood.
head, Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and
And every bud that sorrow'sliterie reares; rills,
Let datfadillies fill their cupswith teares, While the still Morn went out with sandals gray;
Bid amaranthus all his beautie shed. He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, Here also the well-attir'd woodbine appears as at present, altered from garish columbine ; and sud Oft listening how the hounds and horn embroidery, an alteration of sad escocheon, in- Cheerly rouse the slumbering Morn, stead of sorrow's liverie.
From the side of some hoar hill, Ver. 153. Let our sad thought, &c.
Through the high wood echoing shrill : Ver. 154. Ay mee, whilst thee the floods and some time walking, not unseen, sounding seas.
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Where the great Sun begins his state, Ver. 176. Listening the unexpressive nuptial Rob’d in flames, and amber light, song.
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
And the mower whets his sithe,
And every shepherd tells bis tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale. Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, Whilst the landscape round it measures ; In Stygian cave forlorn,
Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights Where the nibbling flocks do stray; unholy!
Mountains, on whose barren breast, Find out some uncouth cell,
The labouring clouds do often rest; Where brooding Darkness sads his jealous Meadows trim with daisies pide, wings,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide : And the night-raven sings;
Towers and battlements it sees There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd | Bosom'd high in tufted trees, As ragged as thy locks,
[rocks, Where perhaps some beauty lies, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
The Cynosure of neigbbouring eyes. But come, thou goddess fair and free,
Hard by, a cottage chimney smoaks, In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,
From betwixt two aged oaks, And by men, heart-easing Mirth ;
Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met, Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
Are at their savoury dinner set With two sister Graces more,
Of herbs, and other country messes, To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; Or whether (as some sager sing)
And then in haste her lower she leaves, The frolic wind, that breathes the spring, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; Zephyr, with Aurora playing,
Or, if the earlier season lead, As he met her once a-maying;
To the tann'd haycock in the mead. There on beds of violets blue,
Sometimes with secure delight And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
The upland hamlets will invite, Fillid her with thee a daughter fair,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound
Dancing in the chequer'd shade;
And young and old come forth to play Nods, and Becks, aud wreathed Smiles,
On a sun-shine holy-day, Such as bang on Hebe's cheek,
Till the live-long day-light fail : And love to live in dimple sleek ;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
With stories told of many a feat, And Laughter holding both his sides.
How faery Mab the junkets eat ; Come, and tripit, as you go,
She was pinch’d, and pull’d, she sed; On the light fantastic toe;
And he, by friars lantern led, And in thy right hand lead with thee
Tells how the drudging goblin swet, The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty ;
To earn bis cream-bowl duly set, And, if I give thee honour due,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
His shadowy flail bath thresh'd the corn, To live with her, and live with thee,
That ten day-labourers could not end; In unreproved pleasures free;
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend, To hear the lark begin his flight,
And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, And singing startle the dull Night,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength; From his watch-tower in the skies,
And crop-full out of doors he Alings, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Ere the first cock his matin rings. Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, And at my window bid good morrow,
By whispering winds soon lulld asleep. Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,
cities please us then, Or the twisted eglantine :
And the busy hum of men, While the cock, with lively din,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold, Scatters the rear of Darkness thin.
In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, And to the stack, or the barn-door,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Swutly struts his dames before:
Rain influence, and judge the prize