The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1867-04-11
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful I

Tunes her nocturnal note Thus with the
year,
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or
Morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summers
rose
Or focks, or herbs, or human face divine !;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me: from the cheerful ways
of men
Cut off; and for the book of knowledge
fair,
Presented with universal blank
Of natures works, to me expunged and
razed,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut
out:
So much the rather thou, celestial Light,
Shine inward, and the mind through all
her powers
Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from
thence
Purge and disperge, that I may see and
tell
OF things invisible to mortal sight"
ii
spiration, are those wherein the misery
Of his blindness is manifested. The idea
of light, varies the secular details of this
fine poem. Light is everywhere delinea-
ted, in the most graphic and sympathiz-
ing pictures. His verse is adorned with
melancholy languor, as his Muse traverses
the holy sepulchre of his soul. 1t was
the pain of loss" in every sphere of his
manhood; yet the light of divine truth
Illuminated the deep treasures, of his all
possessing intellect
The value of light in the estimation of
Milton is beautifully depicted. in Satan's
address to the Sun =
go thou! that with surprising glory
crowned,
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the
god
Of this new world; at whose sight all the
Hide their diminished heads, to thee 1
But with no friendly voice, and add thy
name,
o Sun! to tell thee how [ hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what
state
1 fell: how glorious once above thy
sphere;
Till pride, and worse ambition threw
me down.
Warning in heaven, against heavens
matchless King;
All wherefore! he deserved no such re-
turn,
From me, whom he created what 1 was
In that bright eminence, and with his
good
Upbraided name: nor was his service hard,
What could be less than to afford him
praise?
The easiest recompence, and pay him
thanks
How due? yet all his good proved i'll, in
me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so
high,
l 'sdained subsection and thought one
step higher,
Would set me highest, and in a moment
quit
The debt immense of endless gratitude,
SO burdensome, still paying, still to owe;
Forgetful what from him | still received,
And understood not that graceful mind,
BY owing, owes not, but still pays at once
Indebted aud discharged: what burden
then?
o had his powerful destiny ordained
Me some inferior angel, had stood
Then happy! no unbounded hope had
raised
Ambition. Yet why not? some other
As great might have aspired, and me,
though mean
Drawn to his part; but other powers as
great
Fell not, but stand unshaken from within,
Or from without, to all temptations armed.
Had'st thou the same free will, and
power to stand
Thou had'st
And SO the arch fend goes on. The
glory of the Invisible brought the misery
Of being expelled from that light which
is to shine for eternity, before his eyes!
His unending and durable existence, was
to be wailing, and weeping, and gnashing
Of teeth
But why enumerate the merit of this
great poet? Why descant on the grand
eur and sublimity of his immortal poem ?
The varied beauties of his celestial seen
cry, have been pored over a thousand
times with delight and languid suseepti-
DiIity; till they have become the very
cant Of criticism, and philosophical inquiry;
md till maxim however unintelligible, has
found place in the bosom of the inspired.
How truely digni6ed are the immacu-
late connections of his Muse. What
bold measure of intellectual genius is con
tanned in his First Book All the others
arc merely explanatory, or pareuthetieal,
detailing at length, the sententious design
Of the Creator! Mans innocence, Mans
taH and Mans redemption. The REsro
RATION! its consequences, and Its slorl-