John Milton



On the University Carrier



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John Milton (1608-1674)

On the University Carrier

Who sickened in the time of his vacancy,
being forbid to go to London, by reason of the Plague


Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,
And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He’s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
’Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten years full,
Dodged with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
And surely, Death could never have prevailed,
Had not his weekly course of carriage failed;
But lately finding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journey’s end was come,
And that he had ta’en up his latest Inn,
In the kind office of a Chamberlain
Showed him his room where he must lodge that night,
Pulled off his Boots, and took away the light:
If any ask for him, it shall be said,
xx“Hobson has supt, and ’s newly gone to bed.”

ANOTHER ON THE SAME

Here lieth one who did most truly prove,
That he could never die while he could move,
So hung his destiny never to rot
While he might still jog on, and keep his trot,
Made of sphere-metal, never to decay
Untill his revolution was at stay.
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
’Gainst old truth) motion numbered out his time:
And like an Engine moved with wheel and weight,
His principles being ceased, he ended straight.
Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm
Too long vacation hast’ned on his term.
Merely to drive the time away he sick’ned,
Fainted, and died, nor would with Ale be quick’ned;
xx“Nay,” quoth he, on his swooning bed outstretched,
xx“If I may not carry, sure I’ll ne’er be fetched,
But vow though the cross Doctors all stood hearers,
For one Carrier put down to make six bearers.”
Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,
He died for heaviness that his Cart went light,
His leisure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load, made his life burdensome
That even to his last breath (there be that say’t)
As he were pressed to death, he cried, “More weight”;
But had his doings lasted as they were,
He had been an immortal Carrier.
Obedient to the Moon he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Linked to the mutual flowing of the Seas,
Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase:
His Letters are delivered all and gone,
Onely remains this superscription.




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