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Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it well
Came dancing forth shaking his dewy hair,
And hurles his glistering beams thro' gloomy air.
Now morn her rofy Iteps in the eastern clime
And now went forth the morn,
Shot thro' with orient beams. There is something rather too puerile (I think) in this conseit of Milton's. Many more might be produced from each of these poets: I have only selected those where particular notice is taken of the morning as a person ; there are numberless admirable descriptions of the several circumstances that attend the rising of the day, which occasion many beautiful images proper to the season; these would be too long to insert here; I shall only add a few more lines from Beaumont and Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess; they likewise have many fine expressions of the morn, to set in competition with their brother poets : and which indeed of our English bards have not ? Taylor the Water-poct boasts, that he has exprest the rising of the sun, the morning, (I think) a thousand different ways. The following is from the latter end of the 4th Act of the Faithful Shepherdess.
See the day begins to break,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
Rom. Let me then stay, let me be ta'en and die :
O bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower; Or chain me to some steepy mountain's top, Where roaring bears, and savage lion's roam; Or shut me nightly in a charnel house; Or, cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless lkulls, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ; (Things that, to hear them ñam'd, have made me
tremble) And I will do it without fear or doubt, To live an unstain's wife to my sweet love.
Hence Milton took the hint of the following lines in his inimitable L'Allegro:
To hear the lark begin his flight,
Juliet's Soliloquy, on drinking the Potion. Farewel-God knows when we shall meet again! I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life. I'll call them back again to comfort me, Nurse -what should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must act alone : Come vial--what if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I of force be married to the count? No, no, this shall forbid it; lie thou there
[Pointing to a dagger. What if it be a poifon, which the friar Subtly hath minift'red, to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Because he married me before to Romeo ? I fear, it is; and, yet, methinks, it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How, if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Comes to redeem me? there's a fearful point ! Shall I not then be stified in the vault, To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, And there be strangled ere my Romeo comes ? Or, if, I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, (As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where for these many hundred years, the bones Of all
buried ancestors are packt;
(Inviron’d with all these hideous fears,)
[She throws berself on the bed.
Scene XIII. Joy and Mirth turn'd to their
All things that we ordained festival,
Romeo's Defcription of, and Discourse with, the
(12) I do, &c.] Garth, in his dispensary, hath endeavoured to imitate this excellent description of Shakespear's: tlie lines themselves will be the best proof of his success :
His shop the gazing vulgar's eyes employs,
And hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted
Rom. Come hither, man ; I see that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats : let me have A dram of poison, such foon-speeding gecr, As will disperse itself through all the veins,
Here mummies lay, most reverently ftale,
In that, dry'd bladders, and drawn teeth are laid. Longinus recommends a judicious choice of the most suitable circumstances, as elegantly productive of the fublime; I mucho question whether Dr. Garth's description will stand the tott, thus considered, particularly in the last circumstance,