Milton, John / 2008-07-01 00:00:00

1638
LYCIDAS
by John Milton
LYCIDAS
In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunatly
drown'd in his Passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637. And by
occasion foretels the ruine of our corrupted Clergy then in their
height.
Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more
Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear,
I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude,
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
Compels me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not flote upon his watry bear
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of som melodious tear.
Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,
That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring,
Begin, and somwhat loudly sweep the string.
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