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Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often reft,
Meadows trim with daifies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:
Towers and battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by, a cottage chimney fmokes.
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favory dinner fet
Of herbs, and other country meffes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes;
And then in hafte her bow'r fhe leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the fheaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead
To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Sometimes with fecure delight
The upland hamlets will invite
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocond rebecks found
To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd thade;
And young and old come forth to play
On a funfhine holy-day,
Till the live-long day-light fail;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat;.
She was pincht, and pull'd, fhe faid,
And he by friar's lanthorn led;
Tells how the drudging goblin fweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpfe of morn,
His fhadowy flail had thresh'd the corn,
That ten day-lab'rers could not end;'
Then lays him down the lubber fiend,
And ftretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength,

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And crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings,
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whifp'ring winds foon lull'd afleep.
Towered cities please us then,
And the bufy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of ladies whofe bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace, whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear
In faffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask, and antique pageantry,
Such fights as youthful poets dream
On fummer eves by haunted ftream.
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Johnson's learned foek be on,
Or fweeteft Shakespear, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild;
And ever against eating cares,
Lap me in foft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verfe,
Such as the meeting foul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untwisting all the chains that tye
The hidden foul of harmony;
That Orpheus felf may heave his head
From golden flumber on a bed
Of heapt Elysian flow'rs, and hear
Such ftrains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half-regain'd Eurydice.
Thefe delights if thou canft give,
Mirth with thee I mean to live.

IL PENSEROSO: Or the gloomy Pleasures of Melancholy.

Hence vain deluding joys,

The brood of Folly without father bred,
How little you befted,

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys!
Dwell in fome idle brain,

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes poffefs, As thick and numberless

As the gay motes that people the fun-beams, Or likeft hovering dreams,

The fickle penfioners of Morpheus' train.
But hail! thou goddefs, fage and holy,
Hail! divineft Melancholy,
Whofe faintly visage is too bright
To hit the sense of human fight,

And therefore to our weaker view
O'erlaid with black, ftaid Wisdom's hue;
Black, but fuch as in efteem

Prince Memnon's fifter might be feen,

Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that ftrove
To fet her beauties praise above
The Sea-nymphs, and their pow'rs offended:
Yet thou art higher far defcended;
Thee bright-hair'd Vefta long of yore
To folitary Saturn bore ;
His daughter fhe (in Saturn's reign
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering bow'rs and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmoft grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove.
Come penfive nun, devout and pure,
Sober, ftedfaft, and demure,
All in robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,
And fable stole of Cyprus lawn,
O'er thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted ftate,
With even step, and mufing gate,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt foul fitting in thine eyes:

There held in holy paffion still
Forget thyself to marble, till
With a fad leaden downward caft
Thou fix them on the earth as faft :
And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Faft, that oft with Gods doth diet,
And hears the mufes in a ring
Ay round about Jove's altar fing:
And add to these retired Leifure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure;
But firft, and chiefeft, with thee bring,
Him that yon foars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The cherub Contemplation;
And the mute Silence hift along,
'Lefs Philomel will deign a fong,
In her sweetest, faddeft plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of Night,
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke,
Gently o'er th' accuftom'd oak.
Sweet bird that fhunn'ft the noise of folly,
Moft mufical, moft melancholy!
Thee chauntress oft the woods among
I woo to hear thy eyen-fong;
And miffing thee, I walk unfeen
On the dry smooth-fhaven green,
To behold the wand'ring moon,
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led aftray
Through the heav'n's wide pathlefs way,
And oft, as if her head fhe bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a plat of rifing ground,
I hear the far off curfeu found,
Over fome wide-water'd fhore,
Swinging flow with fullen roar ;
Or if the air will not permit,
Some ftill removed place will fit,
Where glowing embers through the room.
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all refort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,


Or the belman's droufy charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm:
Or let my lamp at midnight hour
Be feen in fome high lonely tow'r,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice-great Hermes, or unfphere
The fpirit of Plato to unfold

What worlds, or what vaft regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forfook
Her manfion in this fleshy nook :
And of thofe Demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whofe power hath a true confent
With planet, or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In fcepter'd pall come fweeping by,
Prefenting 7 bebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine,
Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the bufkin'd ftage.
But, O fad virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musæus from his bower,
Or bid the foul of Orpheus fing
Such notes as, warbled to the ring,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made hell grant what love did feek;
Or call up him that left half told
The ftory of Cambufcan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarfife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wond'rous horfe of brass
On which the Tartar king did ride;
And if ought else great bards beside
In fage and folemn tunes have fung,
Of turnies and of trophies hung,
Of forests, and inchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Thus, Night, oft fee me in thy pale career,
Till civil-fuited Morn appear,

Not trickt and flounc't as fhe was wont
With the Attic boy to hunt,

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