“Lycidas” Summary

“Lycidas” Themes

• 

  The Mystery and Power of Death

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  Immortality and Resurrection

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• 

  The Corruption of the Church

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• 

  Poetry and Fame

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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “Lycidas”

• Lines 1-14

  Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more
  Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere,
  I come 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 float upon his wat'ry bier
  Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
  Without the meed of some melodious tear.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 15-22

        Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well
  That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring;
  Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
  Hence with denial vain and coy excuse!
  So may some gentle muse
  With lucky words favour my destin'd urn,
  And as he passes turn
  And bid fair peace to be my sable shroud!

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 23-36

        For we were nurs'd upon the self-same hill,
  Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill;
  Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd
  Under the opening eyelids of the morn,
  We drove afield, and both together heard
  What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn,
  Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night,
  Oft till the star that rose at ev'ning bright
  Toward heav'n's descent had slop'd his westering wheel.
  Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute,
  Temper'd to th'oaten flute;
  Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with clov'n heel,
  From the glad sound would not be absent long;
  And old Damætas lov'd to hear our song.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 37-49

        But O the heavy change now thou art gone,
  Now thou art gone, and never must return!
  Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves,
  With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown,
  And all their echoes mourn.
  The willows and the hazel copses green
  Shall now no more be seen
  Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
  As killing as the canker to the rose,
  Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,
  Or frost to flowers that their gay wardrobe wear
  When first the white-thorn blows:
  Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 50-55

        Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep
  Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas?
  For neither were ye playing on the steep
  Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,
  Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,
  Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 56-63

  Ay me! I fondly dream
  Had ye been there—for what could that have done?
  What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,
  The Muse herself, for her enchanting son,
  Whom universal nature did lament,
  When by the rout that made the hideous roar
  His gory visage down the stream was sent,
  Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 64-76

        Alas! what boots it with uncessant care
  To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade,
  And strictly meditate the thankless Muse?
  Were it not better done, as others use,
  To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
  Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair?
  Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
  (That last infirmity of noble mind)
  To scorn delights and live laborious days;
  But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
  And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
  Comes the blind Fury with th'abhorred shears,
  And slits the thin-spun life.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 76-84

  "But not the praise,"
  Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears;
  "Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
  Nor in the glistering foil
  Set off to th'world, nor in broad rumour lies,
  But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes
  And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
  As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
  Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed."

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 85-88

        O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood,
  Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds,
  That strain I heard was of a higher mood.
  But now my oat proceeds,

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 89-102

  And listens to the herald of the sea,
  That came in Neptune's plea.
  He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds,
  "What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain?"
  And question'd every gust of rugged wings
  That blows from off each beaked promontory.
  They knew not of his story;
  And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
  That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd;
  The air was calm, and on the level brine
  Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.
  It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
  Built in th'eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark,
  That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 103-107

        Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow,
  His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge,
  Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge
  Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe.
  "Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, "my dearest pledge?"

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 108-121

  Last came, and last did go,
  The Pilot of the Galilean lake;
  Two massy keys he bore of metals twain
  (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).
  He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake:
  "How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain,
  Enow of such as for their bellies' sake
  Creep and intrude, and climb into the fold?
  Of other care they little reck'ning make
  Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast
  And shove away the worthy bidden guest.
  Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
  A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least
  That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 122-131

  What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;
  And when they list their lean and flashy songs
  Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw,
  The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
  But, swoll'n with wind and the rank mist they draw,
  Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;
  Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
  Daily devours apace, and nothing said,
  But that two-handed engine at the door
  Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more."

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 132-141

        Return, Alpheus: the dread voice is past
  That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse,
  And call the vales and bid them hither cast
  Their bells and flow'rets of a thousand hues.
  Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use
  Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,
  On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks,
  Throw hither all your quaint enamel'd eyes,
  That on the green turf suck the honied showers
  And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 142-153

  Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
  The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
  The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet,
  The glowing violet,
  The musk-rose, and the well attir'd woodbine,
  With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
  And every flower that sad embroidery wears;
  Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
  And daffadillies fill their cups with tears,
  To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
  For so to interpose a little ease,
  Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 154-164

  Ay me! Whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
  Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd;
  Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
  Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
  Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world,
  Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,
  Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,
  Where the great vision of the guarded mount
  Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold:
  Look homeward angel now, and melt with ruth;
  And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 165-173

        Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more,
  For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,
  Sunk though he be beneath the wat'ry 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 walk'd the waves;

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 174-181

  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 for ever from his eyes.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 182-185

  Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more:
  Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore,
  In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
  To all that wander in that perilous flood.

  

  

  

  

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• Lines 186-193

        Thus sang the uncouth swain to th'oaks and rills,
  While the still morn went out with sandals grey;
  He touch'd the tender stops of various quills,
  With eager thought warbling his Doric lay;
  And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills,
  And now was dropp'd into the western bay;
  At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue:
  To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

  

  

  

  

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“Lycidas” Symbols

• 

  The Funereal Wreath

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  The Rivers

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“Lycidas” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language

• Allusion

  

  

  

  

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• Repetition

  

  

  

  

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• Imagery

  

  

  

  

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• Personification

  

  

  

  

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• Simile

  

  

  

  

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• Apostrophe

  

  

  

  

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• Metaphor

  

  

  

  

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“Lycidas” Vocabulary

Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.

• Laurels, myrtles, and ivy
• Mellowing
• Bitter constraint
• Wat'ry bier
• Welter
• Meed
• Sisters of the sacred well
• Jove
• Sweep the string
• Hence with denial vain and coy excuse!
• Fed the same flock
• Batt'ning
• The star that rose at ev'ning bright
• Rural ditties
• Temper'd to th'oaten flute
• Satyrs and fauns
• Old Damætas
• Gadding
• Copses
• Lays
• Canker
• Taint-worm to the weanling herds
• The Druids, Mona, and Deva
• Fondly
• The Muse herself that Orpheus bore
• The rout that made the hideous roar
• What boots it
• Homely
• Strictly meditate the thankless Muse
• Amaryllis and Neaera
• That last infirmity of noble mind
• Guerdon
• The blind Fury
• Phoebus
• Glistering foil
• Broad rumour
• Arethuse and Mincius
• The herald of the sea
• In Neptune's plea
• What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain?
• Beaked promontory
• Hippotades
• The level brine
• Panope
• That fatal and perfidious bark
• Built in th'eclipse
• Camus
• The Pilot of the Galilean lake
• Enow
• Climb into the fold
• What recks it them?
• Scrannel pipes
• The grim wolf with privy paw
• That two-handed engine at the door
• Alpheus
• The swart star
• Rathe
• Amaranthus
• False surmise
• Hebrides
• Bellerus
• The guarded mount
• Him that walk'd the waves
• Unexpressive nuptial song
• The Genius of the shore
• Large recompense
• Uncouth swain
• He touch'd the tender stops of various quills
• His Doric lay
• His mantle blue

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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “Lycidas”

• Form

• Meter

• Rhyme Scheme

“Lycidas” Speaker

“Lycidas” Setting

Literary and Historical Context of “Lycidas”

More “Lycidas” Resources

• External Resources

  • The Poem Aloud — Listen to a lively (and wonderfully tweedy) reading of the poem by author Malcolm Guite.

  • A Brief Biography — Learn more about Milton's life and work via the British Library.

  • Milton's Legacy — Read an article on Milton's power and his literary afterlife.

  • Justa Edouardo King naufrago — See images of Milton's own annotated copy of Justa Edouardo King naufrago, the memorial volume in which "Lycidas" first appeared.

  • The Young Milton — See a portrait of Milton when he was a student at Christ's College, Cambridge—not so long before he composed "Lycidas." He was known as the "Lady of Christ's" for his fastidiousness and his delicate looks.

• LitCharts on Other Poems by John Milton

  • On Shakespeare. 1630

  • Sonnet 19: When I consider how my light is spent (On his blindness)

  • Sonnet 7: How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth