54 JOHN MILTON 
The white pink and the pansy freaked with jet, 
The glowing violet, 
The musk rose and the well-attired woodbine, 
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears : 
Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, 
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, 
To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.” 
Soon after this invocation, which has in it nothing to 
which an ancient Greek like Theocritus might not 
have responded with full sympathy, the mood once 
more changes, and the triumphant hope of the Chris- 
tian finds voice in the following sublime passage. We 
shall encounter in the course of it a word of which the 
meaning has utterly changed in the last two centuries ; 
Milton says “unexpressive” where we should say 
“inexpressible ” or “ beyond expression.” 
“Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, 
For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, 
Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. 
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore, 
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky ; 
So Lycidas,.sunk low but mounted high, 
Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, 
Where, other groves and other streams along, 
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song 
In the blest Kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
There entertain him all the saints above, 
In solemn troops and sweet societies, 
That sing and singing in their glory move, 
And wipe the tears forever from his eyes.” 
From this magnificent organ peal of triumph, the very 
next line suddenly changes to a thought that is purely 
