1795, Nro. 93.) Die uns bekannt gewordene neuste Ausgabe der Werke Milton's ist 1801 zu London in 4 Bänden 8., unter dem Titel erschienen: The poetical Works of John Milton, from the text of Dr. Newton; with a critical essay by J. Aikin, M. D. Der erste und zweite Band enthält, aufser dem trefflichen Essay on the poetry of Milton, das Paradise lost; der dritte das Paradise regain'd, den Samson Agonistes und den Comus, und im vierten Bande sind die vermischten Gedichte, so wie die sämmtlichen Lateinischen enthalten. Die Ausgabe kostet mit den 24 Kupferstichen nur 1 Guinee in boards und 1 Guineen in einem saubern Einbande. — Weitläufigere biographische Nachrichten von Milton findet man in den angeführten Ausgaben seiner Werke von Johnson und Anderson; ausserdem verdienen genannt zu werden: Amyntor, or a defence of Milton's life, by John Toland; the life of John Milton, containing besides the history of his works, several extraordinary characters of men and books etc. London 1699 in 8.; Thomas Birch's historical and critical Account of the life and witings of J. M., vor der 1738 zu London erschienenen Ausgabe des verlornen Paradises; vor allen aber nebst vortrefflichen ästhetischen Bemerkungen: the Life of John Milton with conjectures on the origin of Paradise lost, by William Hailey, Esq. (nachgedruckt) Basel 1799. Unter andern wird auch darin der nicht neue Gedanke, dafs Milton den Plan zu seinem verlornen Paradiese aus einem Italiänischen Drama des Andreini aufgefasst habe, ausge führt, und dabei noch ein anderes Stück la Scena Tragica d'Adamo ed Eva weitläufig auseinander gesetzt. (Man sehe das Intelligenzblatt der Allgem. Lit. Zeit. von 1796. Nro. 109. S. 920.) Eine schöne Abhandlung über Milton findet man auch in den Nachträgen zu Sulzer's allgemeiner Theorie der schönen Künste, 7ten Bandes im Stück.

Hence,

ence, loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn

Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy,
Find out some uncouth cell,

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,.

And the night-raven sings;

There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimerian desert ever dwell.
But come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ecleap'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth,
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sages sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a-Maying,

There on beds of violets blue,

And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee-
Jest and youthful Jollity,

Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides:
Come, and trip it as you go

On the light fantastic toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,

To live with her, and live with thee;
In unreproved, pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Then to come in spite of Sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the sweet - briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:

While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of Darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn- door!
Stoutly struts his dames before:

Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly rouse the slumb'ring Morn
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Some time walking not unseen,

By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight:
While the plow-man near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his sithe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Strait mine eye hath caught new w pleasures
Whilst the landskip round it measures;
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray,
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often rest,
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The Cynosure *) of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by a cottage chimney smokes
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
Are at their savory dinner set

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat - handed Phyllis dresses;
And then in haste her bow'r she leaves,

*) Cynosure, der Polarstern.

With Thestylis to bind the sheaves;
Or if the earlier season lead

To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Sometimes with secure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecs sound

To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd shade;

And young and old come forth to play
On a sunshine holy-day,

Till the live-long day-light fail;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With stories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat,
She was pinch'd and pull'd, she said,
And he by frier's lantern led;

Tells how the drudging goblin swet,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,

When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flale hath thresh'd the corn,
That ten day-lab'rers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,
And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength;
And crop full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings *).
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whisp'ring winds soon lull'd asleep.
Towered cities please us then,

And the busy hum of men,

Where throngs of knights and barons bold
In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend,
To win her grace whom all commend,
There let Hymen oft appear

In saffron robe, with taper clear,

*) Englische Volksmährchen,

And Pomp, and Feast, and Revelry,
With Mask and antique Pageantry;
Such sights as youthful poets dream
On summer eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well trod stage anon,
If Jonson's) learned sock be on,
Of sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
And ever against eating cares,
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,

Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked, sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains, that tie
The hidden soul of harmony;

That Orpheus self may heave his head
From golden slumber on a bed

Of heapt Elysian flow'rs, and hear
Such strains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free

His half-regain'd Eurydice.
These delights, if thou canst give
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.

2) IL PENSER O SO.

Hence, vain deluding Joys,

The brood of Folly, without father bred,
How little you bested,

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys?
Dwell in some idle brain,

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless

As the gay motes that people the sun-beams,
Or likeliest hovering dreams,

The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train.

*) Ben Jonson, geb. 1575, gest. 1637, ein dramatischer Dichter.