The Eastern sages leading on

As at a kingly throne,
To lay their gold and odors sweet
Before thy infant feet.

The Earth and Ocean were not hush'd to hear

Bright harmony from every starry sphere;
Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song
From all the cherub choirs,
And seraphs' burning lyres,
Pour'd thro' the host of heaven the charmed
clouds along.

One angel-troop the strain began,
Of all the race of man
By simple shepherds heard alone,
That soft Hosanna's tone.

And when thou didst depart, no car of flame
To bear thee hence in lambent radiance

came ;

Nor visible angels mourn'd with drooping plumes :

Nor didst thou mount on high
From fatal Calvary
[their tombs.
With all thy own redeem'd out bursting from
For thou didst bear away from earth
But one of human birth,

The dying felon by thy side, to be
In Paradise with thee.

Nor o'er thy cross the clouds of vengeance brake ;

A little while the conscious earth did shake

At that foul deed by her fierce children done; A few dim hours of day

The world in darkness lay; Then bask'd in bright repose beneath the cloudless sun.

While thou didst sleep within the tomb,
Consenting to thy doom;

Ere yet the white-rob'd angel shone
Upon the sealed stone.

And when thou didst arise, thou didst not

stand

[few.

With Devastation in thy red right hand,
Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew:
But thou didst haste to meet
Thy mother's coming feet,
And bear the words of peace unto the faithful
Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise
Into thy native skies,

Thy human form dissolved on high
In its own radiancy.

VARIOUS DESCRIPTIONS FROM
SPENSER.

25. Adonis's Garden. BUT were it not that Time their troubler is, All that in this delightful garden grows

Should happy be, and have immortal bliss: For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes, And sweet love gentle fits emongst them throws,

Without fell rancour, or fond jealousie ; Frankly each paramour his leman knows, VOL. VI. Nos. 89 & 90.

Each bird his mate; ne any does envie Their goodly merriment, and gay felicitie.

Right in the middest of that paradise [top There stood a stately mount, on whose round A gloomy grove of myrtle trees did rise, Whose shadie boughs sharp steele did never Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop : lop, But, like a girlond compassed the hight, And from their fruitfull sides sweet gumes did drop, [dight,

That all the ground with precious dew beThrew forth most dainty odours, and most

sweet delight!

And, in the thickest covert in that shade, There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,

But of the trees own inclination made, Which knitting their ranke branches part to part,

With wanton ivie-twine entail'd athwart,
And eglantine and caprisfole emong,
Fashion'd above within her inmost part,
That neither Phoebus' beams could through
them throng,
[wrong.
Nor Eolus' sharp blast could work them any
And all about grew every sort of flowre,
To which sad lovers were transform'd of yore;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phœbus' paramoure,
Foolish Narcisse, that likes the wat'ry shore;
And dearest love;
Sad Aramanthus, made a flowre but late;
Sad Aramanthus, in whose purple gore

Meseemes I see Amintas' wretched fate, To whom sweet poets verse hath given endless date.

Which cunning craftsman's hand hath overlaid

With fair vermillion, or pure lastery.
Great wonder had the knight to see the maid
So strangely passioned, and to her gently said;
Fair damsell, seemeth by your troubled
cheare

That either me too bold yee weene, this wise
You to molest, or other ill to feare,
That in the secret of your heart close lyes,
From whence it doth, as cloud from sea, arise.
If it be I, of pardon I you pray;
But if ought else that I mote not devise,
I will (if please you it discrue) assay
To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.
She answer'd nought, but more abasht for
shame,

Held down her head, the whiles her lovely
face
[flame,
The flushing blood with blushing did in-
And the strong passion marr'd her modest
grace,

That Guyon marvail'd at her uncouth case :

Till Alma him bespake, Why wonder yee, Fair sir, at that which you so much imbrace? She is the fountaine of your modestee: You shame-fac'd are, but Shame-fac'dness itself is shee.

§31. Beauty.

For, with dread majesty, and awful ire, She broke his wanton darts, and quenched base desire.

The sense of man, and all his mind possess, Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure

As beauty's love-bait, that doth procure Great warriors of their rigour to repress, And mighty hands forget their manliness, Drawn with the pow'r of an heart-robbing And wrapt in fetters of a golden tress, [eye, That can with melting pleasance mollify Their harden'd hearts, enur'd to blood and cruelty.

So whilome learn'd that mighty Jewish swain, [might, Each of whose locks did match a man of To lay his spoils before his leman's train : So also did the great Cretan knight, For his love's sake, his lion's skin undight: And so did warlike Antony neglect The world's whole rule, for Cleopatra's sight. Such wond'rous pow're has women's fair

lowness

That moves more dear compassion of mind, Than beauty brought t' unworthy wretched

ness

By envy's snares or fortune's freaks unkind:
I, whether lately through her brightness blind,
Or through allegiance and fast fealty,
Which I do owe unto all womankind,

Feel my heart pierc'd with so great agony,
When such I see, that all for pity I could die.
Eftsoons there stepped forth
A goodly lady, clad in hunter's weed,
That seem'd to be a woman of great worth,
And by her stately portance borne of heavenly
birth.

Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not, But heavenly portraict of bright angels hiew, Clear as the sky withouten blame or blot, Through goodly mixture of complexions dew, And in her cheeks the vermill' red did shew

Like roses in a bed of lillies shed, The which ambrosial odours from them threw, And gazers sense with double pleasure fed, Able to heal the sick, and to revive the dead. In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame, Kindled above, at th' heavenly Maker's light, And darted fiery beams out of the same, So passing pearceant, and so wondrous bright, That quite bereav'd the rash beholders of their sight:

In them the blinded god his lustful fire To kindle oft assay'd, but had no might;

Is sweet and pleasing unto living sense, Or that may daintiest fantasie aggrate,

Was poured forth with plentiful dispense, And made there to abound with lavish afflu

ence.

Goodly it was enclosed round about, As well their enter'd guests to keep within,

As those unruly beasts to hold without; Yet was the fence thereof but weak and thin: Nought fear'd their force that fortilage to win,

But wisdom's powre and temperance's might, By which the mightiest things efforced bin : And eke the gate was wrought of substance light,

Rather for pleasure than for battery or fight.

It framed was of precious yvory,
That seem'd a work of admirable wit;

And therein all the famous historie
Of Jason and Medea was ywrit;
Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fit,

His goodly conquest of the golden fleece,
His falsed faith, and love to lightly flit,
The wondred Argo, which invent'rous peece
First through the Euxian seas bore all the
flow'r of Greece.

Ye might have seen the frothy billowes fry Under the ship, as thorough them she went, That seemed waves were into yvory, Or yvory into the waves were sent : And other where the snowy substance sprent, With vermill-like the boyes bloud therein A piteous spectacle did represent; [shed,

And otherwhiles with gold besprinkled, [wed.
It seem'd th' enchanted flame which did Creusa
All this and more might in this goodly gate
Be read; that ever open stood to all [sate
Which thither came; but in the porch there
A comely personage of stature tall,
And semblance pleasing more than natural,
That travellers to him seem'd to entice;
His looser garments to the ground did fall,
And flew about his heels in wanton wise,
Not £t for speedy pace or manly exercise.

The foe of life, that good envies to all,
That secretly doth us procure to fall,
Through guileful semblaunce which he makes
He of this garden had the governall, [us see,
And pleasure's porter was devis'd to be,
Holding a staffe in hand for more formalitie.
Thus being entred, they behold around
A large and spatious plaine on every side
Strow'd with pleasaunce, whose faire grassie
ground

Mantled with green, and goodly beatifide
With all the ornaments of Floraes pride,

Wherewith her mother Art, as half in scorne
Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride,
Did deck her, and too lavishly adorne,

Whose bunches hanging downe, seem'd to entice

All passers by to taste their lushious wine, And did themselves into their hands incline, As freely offering to be gathered : Some deep empurpled as the hyacint,

Some as the rubine laughing, sweetly red, Some like fair emeraudes not yet ripened.

And them amongst, some were of burnisht So made by art, to beautifie the rest, [gold, Which did themselves amongst the leaves

enfold,

As lurking from the view of covetous guest, That the weak boughes, with so rich load opprest,

Did bow adown as over-burthened.

There the most dainty paradise on ground, Itself doth offer to his sober eye,

In which all pleasures plentiously abound, And none does others happiness envie : The painted flowres, the trees upshooting hie, The dales for shade, the hills for breathing place,

The trembling groves, the crystall running by ; And that which all fair works doth most aggrace, [place.

th' early morne.

Thereto the heavens always joviall, Lookt on them lovely, still in stedfast state, Ne suffer'd storme nor frost on them to fall, Their tender buds or leaves to violate, Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate, T' afflict the creatures which therein did

dwell;

But the mild air with season moderate

Gently attempted and disposed so well, That still it breathed forth sweet spirit and wholesome smell.

More sweet and wholesome than the pleasant hill

Of Rhodope, on which the nymph that bore
A giant-babe, herselfe for griefe did kill;
Or the Thessalian Tempè, where of yore
Faire Daphne Phoebus' heart with love did
gore;

Or Ida, where the gods lov'd to repaire, When-ever they their heavenly bowres forlore;

Or sweet Parnasse, the haunt of muses faire; Or Eden, if that aught with Eden mote com

pare.

Much wonder'd Guyon at the fair aspect
Of that sweet place, yet suffered no delight
To sink into his sense, nor mind affect,
But passed forth, and look'd still forward right,
Bridling his will, and mastering his might:
Till that he came unto another gate,
No gate, but like one, beeing goodly dight
With boughes and branches, which did
broad dilate,
[intricate.
Their clasping armes, in wanton wreathings
So fashioned a porch with rare divise,
Archt over head with an embracing vine,

One would have thought (so cunningly the

rude

And scorned parts were mingled with the fine)
That Nature had for wantonness ensude
Art, and that Art at Nature did repine;
So striveing each the other to undermine,
Each did the other's work more beautify;
So differing both in willes, agreed in fine:
So all agreed through sweet diversitie,
This garden to adorne with all varietie.

And in the midst of all, a fountaine stood, Of richest substance that on earth might be, So pure and shiny, that the silver flood Through every channell running, one might see;

Most goodly it with pure imageree

[boyes,

Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked Of which some seem'd with lively jollitee

To fly about, playing their wanton toyes, While others did themselves embay in liquid joyes.

And over all, of purest gold, was spred A trayle of ivie in his native hew

For the rich metall was so coloured, That wight that did not well advised view, Would surely deem it to be ivie true :

Low his lascivious armes adowne did creep That themselves dipping in the silver dew, Their fleecie flowres they tenderly did steepe, [to weepe. Which drops of crystall seem'd for wantonness Infinite streames continually did well Out of this fountaine, sweet and faire to see

The which into an ample laver fell, And shortly grew to so great quantitie, That like a little lake it seem'd to bee;