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120

That own`d the virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wondrous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride;
And if ought elle-great bards beside
In fage and folemn tunes have sung,
Of turneys and of trophies hung,
Of forests, and inchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Thus night oft see me in thy pale carreer,
Till civil-suited morn appear,
Not trickt and frounct as she was wont
With the Attic boy to hunt,
But kercheft in a comely cloud,

125
While rocking winds are piping loud,
Or usher'd with a shower still,
When the guft hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rufling leaves,
With minute drops from off the caves.
And when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me Goddess bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves
Of pine, or monumental oak,

135 Where the rude ax with heaved ftroke Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt, There in close covert by some brook, Where no profaner eye may lock,

140 Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thie, That at her flow'ry work doth fing, And the waters murmuring With such confort as they keep,

145 Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep ; And let some strange mysterious dreain Wave at his wings in aery streain

Of

130

POEMS on Several OCCASIONS. 169

OCCASION
Of lively portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid.

150
And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by fome Spirit to mortals good,
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood,
But let my due feet never fail

155 To walk the studious cloysters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antic pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.

160 There let the pealing organ blow, To the full voic'd quire below, In service high, and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into extasies,

*165 And bring all Heay'n before mine eyes, And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and moffy cell, Where I'may fit and rightly spell

170 Of every star that Heav'n doth shew, And

every herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures Melancholy give,

17.5 And I with thee will choose to live.

ARCADES.

XV.

ARCADES.

Part of an Entertainment presented to the Countess

Dowager of Derby at Harefield, by some noble persons of her family, who appear on the scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of state, with this Song

L

1. SONG.
OOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look,

What sudden blaze of majesty
Is that which we from hence descry,
Too divine to be miftook :

This, this is the
To whom our vows and wishes bend;
Here our solemn search hath end.

S

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10

Fame, that her high worth to raise,
Seemd erst 10 lavish and profuse,
We may juftly now accule
Of detraction from her praise ;

Less than half we find expreít,

Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state the spreads,
In circle round her shining throne,
Shooting her beams like silver threads ;
This, this is the alone,

Sitting like a Goddess bright,
In the center of her light.

15

Might she the wife Latona be,
Oribe towred Cybele,

Mother

ST

Mother of a hundred Gods;
Juno dares not give her odds;

Who had thought this clime had held
A deity so unparallel'd ?

25 As they come forward, the Genius of the wood appears, and turning toward them, speaks.

GENIUS,
TAY gentle Swains, for though in this disguise,

I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes ';
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung
Of that renowned food, so often fung,
Divine Alpheus, who by secret fluce

39 Stole under seas to meet his Arethuse ; And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, Fair filver-bulkind Nymphs as great and good, I know this quest of yours, and

free intent Was all in honor and devotion meant

35 To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, And with all helpful service will comply To further this night's glad solemnity; And lead ye where ye may more near behold 40 What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold ; Which I full oft amidst these shades alone Have fat to wonder at, and gaze upon: For know by lot from Jove I am the Power Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower, 45 To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. And all my plants I save from nightly ill Of noisome winds, and blasting vapors chill : And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, go And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue,

Or

Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites,..
Or hurtful worm with cankerd venom bites.
When evening gray doth rife, I fetch my

round
Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, 55
And early ere the odorous breath of morn
Awakes the slumb’ring leaves, or taffeld horn
Shakes the high thicket, halte I all about,
Number my ranks, and visit every sprout
With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless;
But else in deep of night, when drowsinefs
Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then liften I
To the celestial Sirens harmony,
That fit upon the nine infolded spheres,
And sing to those that hold the vital shears,
And turn the adamantin spindle round,
On which the fate of Gods and men is wound.
Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie,
To lull the daughters of Neceffity,
And keep unsteddy Nature to her law, 70
And the low world in measur'd motion draw
After the heav'nly tuñe, which none can hear
Of human mold with gross unpurged ear j
And yet such music worthiest were to blaze
The peerless highth of her immortal praise, 73
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit
Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,
Whate'er the skill of lesser Gods can show,
I will assay, her worth to celebrate,

80 And fo attend ye toward her glittering state ; Where ye may all that are of noble item Approach, and kiss her facred vesture's hems

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