A Star comes dancing up the orient,

That springs for joy over the strawy tent;

Where gold, to make their Prince a crown, they all present. . . .

With that, the mighty thunder dropt away

From God's unwary arm, now milder grown,

And melted into tears; as if to pray

For pardon and for pity it had known,

That should have been for sacred vengeance thrown :
There-to, the armies angelic devowed

Their former rage, and, all to Mercy bowed,
Their broken weapons at her feet they gladly strowed.
Bring, bring, ye Graces, all your silver flaskets,
Painted with every choicest flower that grows;
That I may soon unflower your fragrant baskets
To strow the fields with odours where he goes:
Let whatsoe'er he treads on be a rose !

So, down she let her eyelids fall, to shine
Upon the rivers of bright Palestine,

Whose woods drop honey and her rivers skip with wine.

CHRIST'S ASCENSION INTO HEAVEN.

So long He wandered in our lower sphere
That heaven began his cloudy stars despise,
Half envious to see on earth appear
A greater light than flamed in his own skies :
At length it burst for spite, and out there flies

A globe of wingèd angels, swift as thought,
That on their spotted feathers lively caught
The sparkling earth, and to their azure fields it brought.

The rest, that yet amazèd stood below

With eyes cast up, as greedy to be fed,

And hands upheld, themselves to ground did throw :
So, when the Trojan boy was ravished,

As through the Italian woods they say he fled,
His aged guardians stood all dismayed,

Some lest he should have fallen back afraid,
And some their hasty vows and timely prayers said.

"Toss up your heads, ye everlasting gates,

And let the Prince of Glory enter in;

At whose brave volley of sidereal states

When, leaping first from earth, he did begin

To climb his angels' wings: then open hang

Your crystal doors!" So all the chorus sang
Of heavenly birds, as to the stars they nimbly sprang.

Hark, how the floods clap their applauding hands,
The pleasant valleys singing for delight;
And wanton mountains dance about the lands;
The while the fields, struck with the heavenly light,
Set all their flowers a-smiling at the sight.

The trees laugh with their blossoms; and the sound
Of the triumphant shout of praise that crowned
The flaming Lamb, breaking through heaven, hath passage
found.

Out leap the antique Patriarchs, all in haste,
To see the powers of Hell in triumph led;
And with small stars a garland interchased
Of olive-leaves they bore to crown his head,
That was before with thorns de-glorièd :

After them flew the Prophets, brightly stoled1
In shining lawn, and wimpled manifold,
Striking their ivory harps strung all in cords of gold :

To which the Saints victorious carols sung,
Ten thousand Saints at once, that, with the sound,
The hollow vaults of heaven for triumph rung:
The Cherubim their clamours did confound
With all the rest, and clapped their wings around :

Down from their thrones the Domnations flow,
And at his feet their crowns and sceptres throw,
And all the princely souls fell on their faces low.

Nor can the Martyrs' wounds them stay behind;
But out they rush among the heavenly crowd,
Seeking their heaven out of their heaven to find,
Sounding their silver trumpets out so loud
That the shrill noise broke through the starry cloud :
And all the Virgin-souls, in pure array,

Come dancing forth, and making joyous play:
So Him they led along into the Courts of Day.

So Him they led into the Courts of Day,
Where never war nor wounds abide him more:
But in that house eternal Peace doth play
At quieting the souls that knew before

Their way to heaven through their own blood to score; But now, estrangèd from all misery,

As far as heaven and earth dis-coasted1 lie, Swelter in quiet waves of immortality.

PHINEAS FLETCHER.

(1584-1650.)

THE Purple Island of Phineas, the elder of the brothers Fletcher, was not published until 1633, after the death of Giles and many years after it was written. It is a long allegory, in the course of which the physical and mental parts of Man are described. The stanza, like that of Giles's Christ's Victory, is formed upon the Spenserian; but Phineas omitted two, instead of one, of Spenser's lines, namely the fifth and seventh. There is enough of Spenser in the plan of this poem, and in various passages of it, to have brought upon its author, had he lived in our own day, the charge of bold-faced plagiarism. But all our old poets were in some sense plagiarists. Nor was it uncommon for a singer to proclaim with pride the source of his inspiration, while his readers were amply satisfied if he sang the old song in a new strain, with some inherent touch of genius that made it more than it was before his own and theirs. The Purple Island had been preceded in 1631 by a piscatory play called Sicelides; but, although Phineas outlived his brother Giles twenty-seven years and produced a good deal of verse, it is only for his physiological Allegory that he is remembered.

FROM THE PURPLE ISLAND.

STRIFE.

Next him Erithius, most unquiet swain,

That all in law and foul contention spent.
Not one was found in all this numerous train
With whom in anything he would consent;

When, leaping first from earth, he did begin

To climb his angels' wings: then open hang

Your crystal doors!" So all the chorus sang
Of heavenly birds, as to the stars they nimbly sprang.
Hark, how the floods clap their applauding hands,
The pleasant valleys singing for delight;
And wanton mountains dance about the lands;
The while the fields, struck with the heavenly light,
Set all their flowers a-smiling at the sight.

The trees laugh with their blossoms; and the sound
Of the triumphant shout of praise that crowned
The flaming Lamb, breaking through heaven, hath passage
found.

Out leap the antique Patriarchs, all in haste,
To see the powers of Hell in triumph led;
And with small stars a garland interchased
Of olive-leaves they bore to crown his head,
That was before with thorns de-glorièd :

After them flew the Prophets, brightly stoled1
In shining lawn, and wimpled manifold,
Striking their ivory harps strung all in cords of gold :

To which the Saints victorious carols sung,
Ten thousand Saints at once, that, with the sound,
The hollow vaults of heaven for triumph rung:
The Cherubim their clamours did confound
With all the rest, and clapped their wings around :

Down from their thrones the Domnations flow,
And at his feet their crowns and sceptres throw,
And all the princely souls fell on their faces low.

Nor can the Martyrs' wounds them stay behind;
But out they rush among the heavenly crowd,
Seeking their heaven out of their heaven to find,
Sounding their silver trumpets out so loud
That the shrill noise broke through the starry cloud :
And all the Virgin-souls, in pure array,

Come dancing forth, and making joyous play:
So Him they led along into the Courts of Day.

So Him they led into the Courts of Day,
Where never war nor wounds abide him more:
But in that house eternal Peace doth play
At quieting the souls that knew before

Their way to heaven through their own blood to score; But now, estrangèd from all misery,

As far as heaven and earth dis-coasted1 lie, Swelter in quiet waves of immortality.

PHINEAS FLETCHER.

(1584-1650.)

THE Purple Island of Phineas, the elder of the brothers Fletcher, was not published until 1633, after the death of Giles and many years after it was written. It is a long allegory, in the course of which the physical and mental parts of Man are described. The stanza, like that of Giles's Christ's Victory, is formed upon the Spenserian; but Phineas omitted two, instead of one, of Spenser's lines, namely the fifth and seventh. There is enough of Spenser in the plan of this poem, and in various passages of it, to have brought upon its author, had he lived in our own day, the charge of bold-faced plagiarism. But all our old poets were in some sense plagiarists. Nor was it uncommon for a singer to proclaim with pride the source of his inspiration, while his readers were amply satisfied if he sang the old song in a new strain, with some inherent touch of genius that made it more than it was before his own and theirs. The Purple Island had been preceded in 1631 by a piscatory play called Sicelides; but, although Phineas outlived his brother Giles twenty-seven years and produced a good deal of verse, it is only for his physiological Allegory that he is remembered.

FROM THE PURPLE ISLAND.

STRIFE.

Next him Erithius, most unquiet swain,

That all in law and foul contention spent.
Not one was found in all this numerous train
With whom in anything he would consent;