And in one of Milton’s juvenile Poems we have

“Trip the pert Fairies.—­

And,

“Revels the spruce jocund Spring.
Comus.

III.  The third thing to be consider’d, is, The adapting the Sound to the Sense.

Who does not hear the Warbling of a Brook, the Rustling of Wings, the rough Sound of Trumpets and Clarions, and the soft one of Flutes and Recorders in the following Lines?

“Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious Murmur warbling, tune his Praise.

Again,

  “—­But Chief the spacious Hall
  Thick swarm’d, both on the Ground and in the Air,
  Brush’d with the Hiss of rustling Wings.

Again,

  “Then strait commands, that at the warlike Sound
  Of Trumpets loud and Clarions, be uprear’d
  His mighty Standard.—­

Again,

  “—­Nor with less Dread, the loud
  Ethereal Trumpet from on High ’gan blow.

Again,

  “—­Thus they
  Breathing united Force with fixed Thought
  Mov’d on in Silence to soft Pipes.

Who does not see Porpoises and Dolphins tumbling about in the Ocean when he reads this Line?

“—­On smooth the Seal, And bended Dolphins play:  part huge of Bulk, Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their Gate, Tempest the Ocean.—­

How variously the Rivers run in these Verses?

“—­So the watry Throng Wave rowling after Wave, where way they found, If steep, with Torrent rapture, if through plain Soft Ebbing.—­

How is the Verse extended where the Whale lies at length upon the Ocean!

  “—­There Leviathan
  Hugest of living Creatures, on the Deep
  Stretch’d like a Promontory sleeps.—­

How does the Line labour when the Elephant is working himself through the stiff Clay, whilst the lesser Animals sprout up as it were in an Instant!

  “—­Scarce thro’ his Mould
  Behemoth, biggest born of Earth, upheav’d
  His Vastness.—­

And,

  “—­Fleec’d the Flocks and bleating, rose
  As Plants.—­

But I shall have occasion to take notice of this Subject hereafter.

IV.  The fourth thing to be enquir’d into is, The mixing of singular and plural Numbers, in which Milton excels.

  “—­Flowers were the Couch
  Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel,
  And Hyacinth, Earth’s freshest softest Lap.

Again,

“—­Through many a dark and dreary Vale They pass’d, and many a Region dolorous, O’er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and Shades of Death.

Again,

  “Sporting the Lion ramp’d, and in his Paw
  Dandled the Kid; Bears, Tigers, Ounces, Pards,
  Gambol’d before them.—­