Poems 2, Title page 1 – Poem 1
POEMS OF Mr. John Milton, BOTH ENGLISH and LATIN, Compos'd at ſeveral times.
Printed by his true Copies.
The SONGS were ſet in Muſick by Mr. HENRY LAWES Gentleman of the KINGS Chappel, and one of His MAIESTIES Private Muſick.
—Baccare frontem
Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro,
Virgil, Eclog. 7.
Printed and publiſh'd according to ORDER.
LONDON, Printed by Ruth Raworth for Humphrey Moſeley, and are to be ſold at the ſigne of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard. 1645.
Melpomene.
Erato.
IOANNIS MILTONI ANGLI EFFIGIES ANNO AETATIS viGeſs: Pri:
Urania.
Clio.
foreign. W. M. ſculp
THE STATIONER TO THE READER.
IT is not any private reſpect of gain, Gentle Reader, for the ſlighteſt Pamphlet is now adayes more vendible then the Works of learnedeſt men; but it is the love I have to our own Language that hath made me diligent to collect, and ſet forth ſuch Peeces both in Proſe and Vers, as may renew the wonted honour and eſteem of our Engliſh tongue: and it's the worth of theſe both Engliſh and Latin Poems, not the flouriſh of any prefixed encomions that can invite thee to buy them, though theſe are not without the higheſt Commendations and Applauſe of the learnedſt Academicks, both domeſtick and forrein: And amongst thoſe of our own Countrey, the unparallel'd atteſtation of that renowned Provost of Eaton, Sir Henry Wootton: I know not thy palat how it reliſhes ſuch dainties, nor how harmonious thy ſoul is; perhaps more trivial Airs may pleaſe thee better. But howſoever thy opinion is ſpent upon theſe, that incouragement I have already received from the moſt ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Wallers late choice Peeces, hath once more made me adventure into the World, preſenting it with theſe ever-green, and not to be blaſted Laurels. The Authors more peculiar excellency in theſe ſtudies, was too well known to conceal his Papers, or to keep me from attempting to ſollicit them from him. Let the event guide it ſelf which way it will, I ſhall deſerve of the age, by bringing into the Light as true a Birth, as the Muſes have brought forth ſince our famous Spencer wrote; whoſe Poems in theſe Engliſh ones are as rarely imitated, as ſweetly excell'd. Reader if thou art Eagle-eied to cenſure their worth, I am not fearful to expoſe them to thy exacteſt peruſal.
Thine to command HUMPH. MOSELEY.
On the morning of CHRISTS Nativity. Compos'd 1629.
I.
THis is the Month, and this the happy morn
Wherin the Son of Heav'ns 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,
II.
That glorious Form, that Light unſufferable,
And that ſar-beaming blaze of Majeſty,
Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table,
To ſit the midſt of Trinal Unity,
He laid aſide; and here with us to be,
Forſook the Courts of everlaſting Day,
And choſe with us a darkſom Houſe of mortal Clay,
III.
Say Heav'nly Muſe, ſhall not thy ſacred vein
Afford a preſent to the Infant God?
Haſt thou no vers, no hymn, or ſolemn ſtrein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,
Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approching light,
And all the ſpangled hoſt keep watch in ſquadrons bright?
IV.
See how from far upon the Eaſtern rode
The Star-led Wiſards haſte with odours ſweet:
O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,
And lay it lowly at his bleſſed feet;
Have thou the honour firſt, thy Lord to greet,
And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,
From out his ſecret Altar toucht with hallow'd fire.