Poems List

No war, or battle’s sound Was heard the world around. The idle spear and shield were high up hung.

On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity. The Hymn, st. 4, l. 53

2

This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heav’n’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That He our deadly forfeit should release, And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.

On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity [1629], st. 1, l. 1

2

Upon the Circumcision

Upon the Circumcision

Ye flaming Powers, and wingèd Warriors bright,
That erst with music, and triumphant song,
First heard by happy watchful Shepherds’ ear,
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along,
Through the soft silence of the listening night,—
Now mourn; and if sad share with us to bear
Your fiery essence can distill no tear,
Burn in your sighs, and borrow
Seas wept from our deep sorrow,
He who with all Heaven’s heraldry whilere
Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease.
Alas! how soon our sin
Sore doth begin
His infancy to seize!
O more exceeding Love, or Law more just?
Just Law indeed, but more exceeding Love!
For we, by rightful doom remediless,
Were lost in death, till He, that dwelt above
High-throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust
Emptied his glory, even to nakedness;
And that great Covenant which we still transgress
Intirely satisfied,
And the full wrath beside
Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess,
And seals obedience first with wounding smart
This day; but oh! ere long,
Huge pangs and strong
Will pierce more near his heart.
564

When the Assault Was Intended to the City

When the Assault Was Intended to the City

Captain, or colonel, or knight in arms,
Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize,
If deed of honour did thee ever please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That call fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o’er lands and seas,
Whatever clime the sun’s bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muse’s bower;
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower
Went to the ground; and the repeated air
Of sad Electra’s Poet had the power
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.
581

To the Nightingale

To the Nightingale

O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O, if Jove's will
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate
Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh;
As thou from year to year hast sung too late
For my relief, yet hadst no reason why:
Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
447

To the Lady Margaret Ley

To the Lady Margaret Ley

Daughter to that good Earl, one President
Of England’s Council and her Treasury,
Who lived in both unstained with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till the sad breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,
Killed with report that old man eloquent,
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourished, yet by you,
Madam, methinks I see him living yet:
So well your words his noble virtues praise
That all both judge you to relate them true
And to possess them, honoured Margaret.
552

To My Lord Fairfax

To My Lord Fairfax

Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings,
And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise,
And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze.
And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings,

Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings
Victory home, while new Rebellions raise
Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays
Her broken League to Imp her Serpent Wings:

O yet! a Nobler task awaits thy Hand,
For what can War, but Acts of War still breed
Till injur'd Truth from Violence be freed;

And publick Faith be rescu'd from the Brand
Of publick Fraud; in vain doth Valour bleed,
While Avarice and Rapine shares the Land.
383

To Mr. H. Lawes on His Airs

To Mr. H. Lawes on His Airs

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas’ ears, committing short and long,
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man
That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue.
Thou honour’st Verse, and Verse must lend her wing
To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus’ quire,
That tunest their happiest lines in hymn or story.
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella, whom he wooed to sing,
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.
496

To Cyriack Skinner

To Cyriack Skinner

Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause,
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench,
To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heaven a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
544

The Passion

The Passion

I

Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth,
Wherewith the stage of Air and Earth did ring,
And joyous news of heavenly Infant’s birth,
My muse with Angels did divide to sing;
But headlong joy is ever on the wing,
In wintry solstice like the shortened light
Soon swallowed up in dark and long outliving night.


II


For now to sorrow must I tune my song,
And set my Harp to notes of saddest woe,
Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long,
Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so,
Which he for us did freely undergo:
Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight
Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight!


III


He, sovran Priest, stooping his regal head,
That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes,
Poor fleshly Tabernacle enterèd,
His starry front low-roofed beneath the skies:
Oh, what a mask was there, what a disguise!
Yet more: the stroke of death he must abide;
Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethren’s side.


IV


These latest scenes confine my roving verse;
To this horizon is my Phoebus bound.
His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce,
And former sufferings, otherwhere are found;
Loud o’er the rest Cremona’s trump doth sound:
Me softer airs befit, and softer strings
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things.


V


Befriend me, Night, best Patroness of grief!
Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw,
And work my flattered fancy to belief
That Heaven and Earth are coloured with my woe;
My sorrows are too dark for day to know:
The leaves should all be black whereon I write,
And letters, where my tears have washed, a wannish white.


VI



See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels,
That whirled the prophet up at Chebar flood;
My spirit some transporting Cherub feels
To bear me where the Towers of Salem stood,
Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood.
There doth my soul in holy vision sit,
In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit.


VII


Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock
That was the casket of Heaven’s richest store,
And here, though grief my feeble hands up-lock,
Yet on the softened quarry would I score
My plaining verse as lively as before;
For sure so well instructed are my tears
That they would fitly fall in ordered characters.


VIII


Or, should I thence, hurried on viewless wing,
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild,
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring
Would soon unbosom all their Echoes mild;
And I (for grief is easily beguiled)
Might think the infection of my sorrows loud
Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud.


This Subject the Author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and
nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished.
580

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Identification and basic context

John Milton was a prominent English poet, polemicist, and civil servant. He is best known for his epic poem "Paradise Lost," a cornerstone of English literature. Milton's work is characterized by its profound theological themes, classical allusions, and mastery of blank verse. He was a staunch defender of republicanism and religious freedom. Born in London, England, his family was Protestant and relatively prosperous, providing him with an excellent education and a supportive environment for his early intellectual and literary development.

Childhood and education

Milton received a rigorous education from an early age. He attended St Paul's School in London, where he excelled in classical languages. He then proceeded to Christ's College, Cambridge, graduating in 1629. His education was further enriched by extensive private study, during which he honed his skills in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Italian. He developed a deep interest in theology, philosophy, and literature, reading widely among classical and contemporary authors. This period laid the foundation for his intellectual depth and sophisticated literary style.

Literary trajectory

Milton's literary career began with poetry, including early works like "On the Morning of Christ's Nativity" and "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso." However, his focus shifted towards polemical prose in the 1640s and 1650s, during which he wrote extensively on religious and political issues, advocating for causes such as freedom of the press and the abolition of monarchy. His blindness in the early 1650s marked a significant turning point, leading him to concentrate on his most ambitious poetic projects. He returned to poetry with renewed intensity, culminating in the composition of "Paradise Lost" and later "Paradise Regained" and "Samson Agonistes."

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Milton's magnum opus is "Paradise Lost" (1667), an epic poem in blank verse that recounts the biblical story of the Fall of Man. Other significant works include "Paradise Regained" (1671), a shorter epic on the temptation of Christ, and "Samson Agonistes" (1671), a dramatic poem. His poetry is known for its majestic tone, complex syntax, vast vocabulary, and intricate allusions to classical mythology and the Bible. He explored profound themes of free will, divine justice, obedience, temptation, and redemption. Milton's style is elevated and grand, employing a rich tapestry of imagery and a powerful, resonant rhythm. He is celebrated for his innovative use of blank verse, elevating it to a level of poetic sophistication previously unseen.

Cultural and historical context

Milton was a figure of profound importance during the English Civil War and the subsequent Interregnum. He served as a Latin Secretary to the Council of State under Oliver Cromwell, engaging in political and religious debates of his time. His writings champion religious tolerance (though with limitations) and republican ideals, placing him at the forefront of the intellectual currents of his era. He was deeply embedded in the Puritan movement and its intellectual milieu, which influenced his theological views and his commitment to liberty.

Personal life

Milton married three times. His first marriage, to Mary Powell, was brief and fraught with initial difficulties but later reconciled. His second wife died young, and his third wife survived him. He had four children, though only one survived him into adulthood. Milton's greatest personal trial was his progressive loss of sight, which eventually left him completely blind by 1652. Despite this severe handicap, he continued his writing with the aid of amanuenses, demonstrating immense fortitude and intellectual dedication.

Recognition and reception

Milton's "Paradise Lost" was met with critical acclaim and established him as one of England's greatest poets. While some contemporaries admired his work, others found it challenging. His reputation grew significantly after his death, and he became a central figure in the English literary canon. His influence on subsequent poets, particularly those of the Romantic era, was immense. He is consistently recognized for his poetic genius, his intellectual depth, and his contributions to English literature and political thought.

Influences and legacy

Milton was deeply influenced by classical poets such as Homer, Virgil, and Ovid, as well as by the Bible and the works of Renaissance humanists. His own work, in turn, exerted a profound influence on English poetry, particularly Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Blake, and Shelley, who were inspired by his epic themes, his revolutionary spirit, and his powerful blank verse. Milton's legacy is that of a poet who masterfully blended classical learning with profound Christian theology, creating works of enduring power and intellectual significance.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Milton's "Paradise Lost" has been subject to extensive critical interpretation. Debates have centered on the character of Satan, the portrayal of God, and the theological implications of the poem. Some critics have viewed Satan as a heroic rebel, while others emphasize his demonic nature and the poem's ultimate affirmation of divine providence. The work is often analyzed for its exploration of free will, sin, and the nature of good and evil, reflecting enduring philosophical and theological questions.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Milton's personal courage in the face of adversity, particularly his blindness, is remarkable. He continued to write, dictate, and engage in public life despite his sightless condition. His meticulous planning and organization of his work, even when dictating to scribes, highlight his intellectual discipline. He was also known for his intellectual pride and his strong convictions, which sometimes led to sharp polemical exchanges.

Death and memory

John Milton died in 1674, a year after the publication of "Paradise Regained" and "Samson Agonistes." His death was mourned by many who recognized his literary and intellectual stature. His works were reissued and translated, ensuring his enduring presence in literary history. He is remembered today as one of the titans of English literature, a poet whose visionary works continue to challenge and inspire readers.