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Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
And daffodillies fill their

cups

with tears, To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies. For, so to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise : Ah me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurld, Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world: Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied, Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus 3 old, Where the great Vision of the guarded mount* Looks towards Namancos and Bayona's hold; Look homeward, Angel ! now, and melt with ruth: And, O ye dolphins ! waft the hapless youth.

Weep no more, woful Shepherds! weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor : So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore

, Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the

waves ; Where, other groves, and other streams along, With nectar pure oozy

locks he laves,

:

his

3 A Cornish giant.

4 Mount St. Michael ; not far from the Land's End in Cornwall, whence at low-water it is accessible. The guarded mount, says Mr. Warton, is simply the fortified mount ; and the great vision is the famous apparition of St. Michael, who is said to have appeared on the top of the mount, and to have directed a church to be built there.

And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
In the bless'd kingdoms meek of joy and love.
There entertain him all the saints above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
That sing, and, singing, in their glory move,
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas! the shepherds weep no more ;
Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood.

Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills,
While the still morn went out with sandals grey:
He touch'd the tender stops of various quills,
With eager thought warbling his Doric lay:
And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills,
And now was dropp'd into the western bay:
At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue:
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

L'ALLEGRO.

HENCE, loathed Melancholy !
Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights Find out some uncouth cell,

[unholy ! Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous And the night raven sings :

{wings, There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.

But come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And by Men, heart-easing Mirth :
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Or whether (as some sager sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a maying;
There on beds of violets blue,
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
Filld her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste thee, Nymph! and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,

Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek ;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it, as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;
And, if I give thee honor due,
Mirth! admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free:
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise ;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good morrow,
Through the sweetbriar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine :
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin ;
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before :
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,

Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Some time walking, not unseen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great sun begins his state,

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