And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,

Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.

X.

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY*.

DAUGHTER to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd 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 Charonea, fatal to liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.†
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourish'd, 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, honour'd Margaret.

* The daughter of Sir James Ley, whose singular learning and abilities raised him through all the great posts of the law, till he came to be made Earl of Marlborough, and Lord High Treasurer, and Lord President of the Council to King James I. He died in an advanced age; and Milton attributes his death to the breaking of the Parliament: and it is true that the Parliament was dissolved the 10th of March 1628-9, and he died on the 14th of the same month. Newton.

.

+ Isocrates, the orator. The Victory was gained by Philip of Macedon over the Athenians. Warton.

XI.

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.

1645.

VOL VII.

A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,* And woven close, both matter, form, and style; The subject new: it walk'd the Town awhile, Numbering good intellects; now seldom por❜d on. Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on A title-page is this!' and some in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?† [sleek, Those rugged names to our like mouths grow That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp, Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir John Cheek,+

Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward, Greek.

*This was one of Milton's books, published in consequence of his divorce from his first wife. Tetrachordon signifies Expositions on the four chief places in Scripture which mention marriage, or nullities in marriage. Warton.

+ Milton is here collecting, from his hatred to the Scots, what he thinks Scotish names of an ill sound. Colkitto and Macdonnel, are one and the same person; a brave officer on the royal side, an Irishman of the Antrim family, who served under Montrose. The Macdonalds of that family are styled, by way of distinction. Mac Colicittok, i. e. descendants of lame Colin. Galasp, or George Gillespie, was a Scotish writer against the Independents, and one of the members of the Assembly of Divines. Warton.

The first professor of the Greek tongue in the university of Cambridge, and was afterwards made one of the tutors to Edward VI. See his Life by Strype, or in the Biographia Britannica.

A 2

Newton.

XII.

ON THE SAME.

I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,

When straight a barbarous noise environs me Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs:

As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,.

Which after held the sun and moon in fee. But this is got by casting pearl to hogs; That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,

And still revolt when truth would set them free. License they mean when they cry Liberty;

For who loves that, must first be wise and good: But from that mark how far they rove we see, For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.

XIII.

TO MR. H. LAWES, ON THE PUBLISHING HIS AIRS. Written 1645.

HARRY, whose tuneful and well-measur'd 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 could humour best our

tongue.

Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her wing
To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire,
That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story.
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing,
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

XIV.

ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHERINE
THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND.

Deceased, Dec. 16, 1646.*

WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee

never,

Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth sever.
Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour,
Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith, who knew them best
Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so dress'd,
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes
Before the Judge; who thenceforth bid thee rest,
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

Dr. Newton found in the accounts of Milton's life, that when he was first made Latin Secretary, he lodged at one Thomson's, next door to the Bull Head Tavern, at Charing Cross. This Mrs. Thomson was in all probability one of that family.

XV.

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.

Written 1648.

FAIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe rings,
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze
And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings;
Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings

Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their Hydra heads, and the false north displays Her broken league to imp their serpent wings. O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand,

(For what can war, but endless war still breed?) Till truth and right from violence be freed, And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand Of public fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.

XVI.

TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL.

Written 1652.

CROMWELL, Our chief of men, who through a cloud,
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud

Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Derwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued,