How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near;
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet it be less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n:
All is, if I have grace to use it
As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
As the reader may see in the second line, the author was beginning his 24th year.
The old reckoning was quite similar to the millennium, not actually beginning until after the first year had been completed, since there is no year zero.'This Sonnet was made in 1631, and was sent in a letter to a friend, who had importun'd the author to take orders; of which letter there are two draughts in his own Manuscript, and the former runs thus.--Sir,"Besides that in sundry respects I must acknowledge me to profit by you whenever we meet, you are often to me, and were yesterday especially, as a good watch-man to admonish that the hours of the night pass on (for so I call my life as yet obscure and unserviceable to mankind) and that the day is at hand, wherein Christ commands all to labor while there is light: which because I am persuaded you do to no other purpose, than out of a true desire that God should be honor'd in every one,
I am ever ready, you know, when occasion is, to give you account, as I ought, though unask'd, of my tardy moving according to the precept of my conscience, which I firmly trust is not without God.
Yet now I will not strain for any set apology, but only refer myself to what my mind shall have at any time to declare herself at her best ease.
Yet if you think, as you said, that too much love of learning is in fault, and that I have given up myself to dream away my years in the arms of studious retirement, like Endymion with the moon on Latmus hill; yet consider, that if it were no more but this, to overcome this, there is on the other side both ill more bewitchful to entice away, and natural years more available to withdraw to that which you wish me; as first all the fond hopes which forward youth and vanity are fledge with, none of which can sort with this Pluto's helmet, as Homer calls it, of obscurity, and would soon cause me to throw it off, if there were nothing else in't but an affected and fruitless curiosity of knowing; and then a natural desire of honor and renown, which I think possesses the breast of every scholar, as well of him that shall, as of him that never shall obtain it (if this be altogether bad) which would quickly oversway this flegm and melancholy of bashfulness, or that other humor, and prevail with me to prefer a life, that had at least some credit in it, some place given it, before a manner of living much disregarded and discountenanc'd.
There is besides this, as all well know, about this time of a man's life, a strong inclination, be it good or no, to build up a house and family of his own in the best manner he may; to which nothing is more helpful than the early entring into some credible employment, and nothing more cross than my way, which my wasting youth would presently bethink her of, and kill one love with another, if that were all.
But what delight or what peculiar conceit, may you in charity think, could hold out against the long knowledge of a contrary command from above, and the terrible seisure of him that hid his talent? Therefore commit grace to grace, or nature to nature, there will be found on the other way more obvious temptations to bad, as gain, preferment, ambition, more winning presentments of good, and more prone affections of nature to incline and dispose, not counting outward causes, as expectations and murmurs of friends, scandals taken, and such like, than the bare love of notions could resist.
So that if it be that which you suppose, it had by this been round about begirt and overmaster'd, whether it had proceeded from virtue, vice, or nature in me.
Yet that you may see that I am some time suspicious of myself, and do take notice of a certain belatedness in me,
I am the bolder to send you some of my nightward thoughts some while since, since they come in fitly, in a Petrarchian staza. How soon hath Time &c."~ Th.
Newton,
Milton's Works, 2nd edition, 1753.(line 8): endu'th: endows.
