50
Book
Forget not: In thy book record their groans
Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll’d
Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans
Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that roll’d
Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they
To Heaven. Their martyr’d blood and ashes sow
O’er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway
The triple tyrant, that from these may grow
A hundred-fold, who, having learnt Thy way,
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
J. Milton
To Heaven. Their martyr’d blood and ashes sow
O’er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway
The triple tyrant, that from these may grow
A hundred-fold, who, having learnt Thy way,
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
J. Milton
lxv
HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL’S RETURN FROM IRELAND
The forward youth that would appear,
Must now forsake his Muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing
His numbers languishing.
Must now forsake his Muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing
His numbers languishing.
’Tis time to leave the books in dust,
And oil the unused armour’s rust,
Removing from the wall
The corslet of the hall.
And oil the unused armour’s rust,
Removing from the wall
The corslet of the hall.
So restless Cromwell could not cease
In the inglorious arts of peace,
But through adventurous war
Urgéd his active star:
In the inglorious arts of peace,
But through adventurous war
Urgéd his active star:
And like the three-fork’d lightning first,
Breaking the clouds where it was nurst,
Did thorough his own side
His fiery way divide:
Breaking the clouds where it was nurst,
Did thorough his own side
His fiery way divide:
For ’tis all one to courage high
The emulous, or enemy;
And with such, to enclose
Is more than to oppose.
The emulous, or enemy;
And with such, to enclose
Is more than to oppose.
