The Bait

by John Donne

Come live with me, and be my love,

And we will some new pleasures prove

Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,

With silken lines, and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run

Warmed by thy eyes, more than the sun.

And there the'enamoured fish will stay,

Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,

Each fish, which every channel hath,

Will amorously to thee swim,

Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,

By sun, or moon, thou darkenest both,

And if myself have leave to see,

I need not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,

And cut their legs, with shells and weeds,

Or treacherously poor fish beset,

With strangling snare, or windowy net:

Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest

The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,

Or curious traitors, sleavesilk flies

Bewitch poor fishes' wandering eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,

For thou thyself art thine own bait,

That fish, that is not catched thereby,

Alas, is wiser far than I.

SELECTION TWO

From Paradise Lost, Book 4

by John Milton

...the Fiend

Saw undelighted all delight, all kind

Of living Creatures new to sight and strange:

Two of far nobler shape erect and tall,

Godlike erect, with native Honour clad

In naked Majestie seemd Lords of all,

And worthie seemd, for in thir looks Divine

The image of thir glorious Maker shon,

Truth, wisdome, Sanctitude severe and pure,

Severe but in true filial freedom plac't;

Whence true autoritie in men; though both

Not equal, as thir sex not equal seemd;

For contemplation hee and valour formd,

For softness shee and sweet attractive Grace,

Hee for God only, shee for God in him:

His fair large Front and Eye sublime declar'd

Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks

Round from his parted forelock manly hung

Clustring, but not beneath his shoulders broad:

Shee as a vail down to the slender waste

Her unadorned golden tresses wore

Dissheveld, but in wanton ringlets wav'd

As the Vine curles her tendrils, which impli'd

Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway,

And by her yielded, by him best receivd,

Yielded with coy submission, modest pride,

And sweet reluctant amorous delay.

Nor those mysterious parts were then conceald,

Then was not guiltie shame, dishonest shame

Of natures works, honor dishonorable,

Sin-bred, how have ye troubl'd all mankind

With shews instead, meer shews of seeming pure,

And banisht from mans life his happiest life,

Simplicitie and spotless innocence.

So passd they naked on, nor shund the sight

Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill:

So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair

That ever since in loves imbraces met,

Adam the goodliest man of men since borne

His Sons, the fairest of her Daughters Eve.

Under a tuft of shade that on a green

Stood whispering soft, by a fresh Fountain side

They sat them down, and after no more toil

Of thir sweet Gardning labour then suffic'd

To recommend coole Zephyr, and made ease

More easie, wholsom thirst and appetite

More grateful, to thir Supper Fruits they fell,

Nectarine Fruits which the compliant boughes

Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline

On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours…

SELECTION THREE

From THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by John Bunyan

Then I saw in my Dream, that when they were got out of the Wilderness, they presently saw a Town before them, and the name of that Town is Vanity; and at the Town there is a Fair kept called Vanity- Fair: It is kept all the year long, it beareth the name of Vanity-Fair, because the Town where tis kept, is lighter then Vanity; and also, because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is Vanity. As is the saying of the wise, All that cometh is vanity.

This Fair is no new erected business, but a thing of Ancient standing; I will shew you the original of it.

Almost five thousand years agone, there were Pilgrims walking to the Coelestial City, as these two honest persons are; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their Companions, perceiving by the path that the Pilgrims made, that their way to the City lay through this Town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a Fair; a Fair wherein should be sold of all sorts of Vanity, and that it should last all the year long. Therefore at this Fair are all such Merchandize sold, as Houses, Lands, Trades, Places, Honours, Preferments, Titles, Countreys, Kingdoms, Lusts, Pleasures, and Delights of all sorts, as Whores, Bauds, Wives, Husbands, Children, Masters, Servants, Lives, Blood, Bodies, Souls, Silver, Gold, Pearls, Precious Stones, and what not.

And moreover, at this Fair there is at all times to be seen Juglings, Cheats, Games, Plays, Fools, Apes, Knaves, and Rogues, and that of all sorts. Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, Thefts, Murders, Adultries, False-swearers, and that of a blood-red colour.

And as in other Fairs of less moment, there are the several Rows and Streets under their proper names, where such and such Wares are vended: So here likewise, you have the proper Places, Rows, Streets, (viz. Countreys, and Kingdoms) where the Wares of this Fair are soonest to be found: Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the German Row, where several sorts of Vanities are to be sold. But as in other fairs, some one Commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the Ware of Rome and her Merchandize is greatly promoted in this fair: Only our English Nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat.

SELECTION FOUR

From Annus Mirabilis by John Dryden

(…) Such was the rise of this prodigious fire,

Which in mean buildings first obscurely bred,

From thence did soon to open streets aspire,

And straight to palaces and temples spread.

In this deep quiet, from what source unknown,

Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose:

And first, few scattering sparks about were blown,

Big with the flames that to our ruin rose.

Then, in some close-pent room it crept along,

And, smoldering as it went, in silence fed:

Till th'infant monster, with devouring strong,

Walked boldly upright with exalted head.

At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze,

Called up some waking lover to the sight;

And long it was ere he the rest could raise,

Whose heavy eye-lids yet were full of night.

The next to danger, hot pursu'd by fate,

Half clothed, half naked, hastily retire:

And frighted mothers strike their breasts, too late,

For helpless infants left amidst the fire.

Their cries soon waken all the dwellers near:

Now murmuring noises rise in every street:

The more remote run stumbling with their fear,

And, in the dark, men justle as they meet.

Now streets grow thronged and busy as by day:

Some run for buckets to the hallowed choir:

Some cut the pipes, and some the engines play,

And some more bold mount ladders to the fire.

In vain: for, from the East, a Belgian wind,

His hostile breath through the dry rafters sent:

The flames impelled, soon left their foes behind,

And forward, with a wanton fury went.

A key of fire ran all along the shore,

And lightened all the river with the blaze:

The wakened tides began again to roar,

And wondering fish in shining waters gaze.

The fire, meantime, walks in a broader gross,

To either hand his wings he opens wide:

He wades the streets, and straight he reaches cross,

And plays his longing flames on th' other side.

At first they warm, then scorch, and then they take:

Now with long necks from side to side they feed:

At length, grown strong, their mother fire forsake,

And a new colony of flames succeed. (…)

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