That came in Neptune's plea ;

90

He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds,
What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ?
And question'd every gust of rugged wings
That blows from off each beaked promontory:
They knew not of his story,

And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd,
The air was calm, and on the level brine
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark,
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.

95

100

Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105 Like to that sanguine flow'r inscrib'd with woe. Ah! Who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge? Last came, and last did go,

The pilot of the Galilean lake;

93 question'd] 'And question'd each wind that came that way.' Beaumont's Psyche, C. xviii. st. 56.

96 Hippotades] 2. Ap. Rh. iv. 819. elsewhere. Warton.

olus, the son of Hippotas, Hom. Od. x.

Ovid. Ep. ex Ponto, iv. x. 15, and

99 Panope] Alciphron Ep. lib. i. xix. 74. ed. Bergler.

103 reverend] One brought a reverend syre!' Whiting's Albino and Bellama, p. 5.

109 Galilean]Who on the troubled Galilean Lake.'

Hen. More's Poems, p. 322.

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain)

110

He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake, How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain,

Enow of such as for their bellies' sake

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? 115
Of other care they little reckoning make,

Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast,
And shove away the worthy bidden guest;

Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold

A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least
That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!
What recks it them? What need they? They are

sped;

And when they list, their lean and flashy songs

121

Beaumont's Psyche, c. xvi. st. 140, and 141.

110 keys] Fletcher's Purple Island, c. vii. 62.

?

Not in his lips, but hands two keys he bore,

Heaven's doors and Hell's to shut and open wide.'

and Dante Paradiso, v. 57. E della chiave.'

115 climb] Crept into the fold.' Prose Works, ii. 381, ed. Symmons.

121 herdman's] Milton writes it 'herdsman,' in his MS.. 'Herdman,' is used in our transl. of the Bible, Amos i. 1. Todd.

Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they

draw,

125

130

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
Daily devours apace, and nothing said;
But that two-handed engine at the door
Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse,
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast
Their bells, and flow'rets of a thousand hues. 135
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,

125 sheep] See Past. Ægl. by L. B. ver. 130, on Sir P. Sidney's death.

'Unhappie flock! that wander scattred now,
What marvell if through grief ye woxen leane,
Forsake your food, and hang your heads adowne!
For such a shepheard never shall you guide,

Whose parting hath of weale bereft you cleane.

6

130 two-handed] Yet, maie the ax stande next the dore.' Sir T. Smith's Psalms. Restituta. iv. 189.

136 use] i. e. frequent, inhabit. Spens. F. Q. Introd. b. vi. st. 2.

'In these strange waies, where never foot did use.'

Newton.

On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks :
Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes,
That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 141
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet,
The glowing violet,

The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
Bid amarantus all his beauty shed,
And daffadillies fill their cups
with tears,

To strow the laureate herse where Lycid lies.
For so to interpose a little ease,

145

150

Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
Ay me! Whilst thee the shores, and sounding seas
Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 1:5
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;
Or whether thou to our moist vows denied,
Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,

138 swart] See Warton's note on this word.

153 dally] Gayton's Chartæ Scriptæ, p. 21.

• When our fond thoughts are wearied with the sports O th' earth, we dally in the watry coasts.'

160

158 monstrous] The sea, the world of monsters. Hor. Od. i. 3. 18. Virg. Æn. vi. 729.

'Quæ marmoreo fert monstra sub æquore pontus.'

Warton.

Where the great vision of the guarded mount Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold; Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth. And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,

Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,

And yet anon repairs his drooping head,

166

And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky;
So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
Thro' the dear might of him that walk'd the waves,
Where other groves, and other streams along,
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.

175

167 watery floor] Dante Purg. ii. 15. Sovra 'l suol marino.' Davison's Poet. Rhapsodie, p. 78.

169 repairs] Lidgate's Troy, p. 13, Long ere Titan 'gan make his repaire. Browne's Brit. Past. p. 88, 'Breathes to the sullen night a soft repayre.' See Fletcher's Christ's Victory, ii. 12; and the Adamus Exul Grotii, p. 28, 35; and Marino's Slaugh. of the Innoc. p. 45. His light immortal doth repair.' And Lucret. v. 733.

171 forehead] Oft seen in forehead of the frowning skies.' Sylvest. Du Bartas, p. 25. 177 blest] Past. Ægl. on Sir P. Sidney's death, by L. B. ver. 135.

'Phillisides is dead! O happie sprite

That now in heaven with blessed seules doest bide:

Looke down awhile from where thou sitst above,' &c.