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Of heapt Elysian flowres, and hear
Such ftreins as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free.
His half regain'd Eurydice.
These delights, if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live,
Ence vain deluding joyes,
The brood of folly without father bred, How little you bested,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys; Dwell in some idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy thapes poffefs, As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams, Or likest hovering dreanas
The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.
But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy,
Hail divinest Melancholy,
Whose Saintly visage is too bright
To hit the sense of human light;
And therefore to our weaker view,
O'er-laid with black Aaidi Wifdem's hyć,
Black, but such as in esteem,
Prince Mennon's Sifter might beseem,
Or that starr'd Ethiope Queen that Atrove
To set her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.
Yet thou art higher far descended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vefa long of yores
To solitary Saturn bore;
His daughter the (in Saturn's reign,
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering Bowies, and gladese
He met her, and in secret thades
of woody Ida's inmoft grove,
While yet there was 'no fear of Jove.
Come penfive Nun, devout and pure,
Saber, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train,
And fable stole of cipres Lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted ftate,
With ev'n ftep, and musing gate,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt foul sitting in thine eyes:
There held in holy passion ftill,
Forget thy felf to Marble, till
With a fad Leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Faft, that oft with Gods doch diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,
Ay round about Jove's Altar fing.
And add to these retired Leasure,
That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure ;
But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding thę fiery wheeled throne,
The: Cherub Contemplation,
And the mute Silence hift alonga
'Less Philomel will deign a Song,
In her sweeteft, saddest plight,
Smoothing the ragged brow of night,
While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
Gently o'er th’accustom'd Oke;
Sweet Bird that thunn'ft the noise of folly,
Moft musical, most melancholy!
Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among,
I woo to hear thy Eeven-Song;
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-haven Green,
To behold che wandring Moon,
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been lead astray
Through the Heav'ns wide pathless way:
And off, as if her head the bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a Plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off Curfen found,
Over some wide-water'd thoar,
Swinging low with sullen coats
Or if the Air will not permit, '
Some still removed place will fit,
Where glowing Embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the Cricket on the hearth,
Or the Belman's drowsie charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm :
Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely Tow'r,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unfphear
The spirit of Plato to unfold
What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook :
And of those Damons that are found
In fire, airy flood, or under ground;
Whose power hath a true consent
With Planet, or with Element.
Sometime let Gorgeous Tragedy
In Scepter'd Pall conie sweeping by,
Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line;
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Or what (though rare) of later age,
Ennobled hath the Buskin’d stage.
But, o sad Virgin; that thy power
Might raise Mufaus from his bower,
Or bid the Soul of Orpheus fing
Suich notes as warbled to the Atring