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Gentle Swain, at thy request,
I am here.

Sp. Goddess dear,

We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band

Of true virgin here distressed,

Through the force and through the wile,
Of unblessed enchanter vile.

Sabr. Shepherd, 'tis my office best
To help ensnared chastity:
Brightest Lady, look on me;
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops, that from my fountain pure
I have kept, of precious cure;
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip:
Next this marble venomed seat,
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat,

I touch with chaste palms moist and cold:-
Now the spell hath lost his hold,

And I must haste, ere morning hour,
To wait ir. Amphitrite's bower.

Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.

Sp. Virgin, daughter of Locrine

Sprung of old Anchises' line, May thy brimmed waves for this Their full tribute never miss From a thousand petty rills, That tumble down the snowy hills: Summer drouth, or singed air, Never scorch thy tresses fair, Nor wet October's torrent flood Thy molten crystal fill with mud; May thy billows roll ashore The beryl and the golden ore; May thy lofty head be crowned With many a tower and terrace round, And here and there thy banks upon With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. Come, Lady, while Heaven lends us grace, Let us fly this cursed place, Lest the sorcerer us entice With some other new device. Not a waste or needless sound, Till we come to holier ground; I shall be your faithful guide Through this gloomy covert wide, And not many furlongs thence


your Father's residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wished presence; and beside
All the swains, that there abide,
With jigs and rural dance resort;
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there

Will double all their mirth and cheer:

Come, let us haste, the stars grow high,

But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

The scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and the President's castle; then come in Country Dancers, after them the Attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers, and the Lady.


Sp. Back, Shepherds, back; enough you play, Till next sun-shine holiday:

Here be, without duck or nod,

Other trippings to be trod

Of lighter toes, and such court guise
As Mercury did first devise,
With the mincing dryades,

On the lawns, and on the leas.

This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother.
Noble Lord, and Lady bright,

I have brought ye new delight;
Here behold so goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own;
Heaven hath timely tried their youth,

Their faith, their patience, and their truth,
And sent them here through hard assays
With a crown of deathless praise,
To triumph in victorious dance
O'er sensual Folly and Intemperance.

The Dances ended, the Spirit epiloguises.
Sp. To the ocean now I fly,

And those happy climes that lie
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky:
There I suck the liquid air
All amidst the gardens fair

Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree:
Along the crisped shades and bowers
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring;
The Graces, and the rosy-bosom'd Hours,
Thither all their bounties bring;
There eternal Summer dwells,
And West-Winds, with musky wing,
About the cedared alleys fling
Nard and Cassia's balmy smells.
Iris there with humid bow

Waters the odorous banks, that blow
Flowers of more mingled hue
Than the purfled scarf can shew;
And drenches with Elysian dew
(List, mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roses,
Where young Adonis oft reposes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In slumber soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits th' Assyrian queen:
But far above in spangled sheen
Celestial Cupid, her famed son,
Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced,

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Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom? Oh no! for something in thy face did shine

ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT Above mortality, that showed thou wast divine.


O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,
Summer's chief honour, if thou had'st outlasted
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry;
For he, being amorous on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But killed, alas! and then bewailed his fatal bliss.

For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer,

By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got,
He thought it touched his deity full near,
If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot

Of long uncoupled bed, and childless eld, Which 'mongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach was held.

So, mounting up in icy-pearled car,

Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wandered long, till thee he spied from far;
There ended was his quest, there ceased his care:
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,

But, all unwares, with his cold kind embrace, Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding place.

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For so Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilom did slay his dearly loved mate,
Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand:
Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land;

But then transformed him to a purple flower: Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power!

Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead,
Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;

Resolve me then, O soul most surely blest,
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear;)
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest,
Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in the Elysian fields, (if such there were;)

And why from us so quickly thou did'st take thy
O say me true, if thou wert mortal wight,

Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof
Of shaked Olympus by mischance did'st fall;
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?
Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou some goddess fled
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared head?
Or wert thou that just Maid, who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,
And camest again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth?
Or that crowned matron sage, white-robed Truth?
Or any
other of that heavenly brood
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some

Or wert thou of the golden-winged host,
Who, having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed seat did'st post,
And after short abode fly back with speed,
As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed;
Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire,
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven aspire?
But oh! why did'st thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy heavenly-loved innocence,
To slake his wrath, whom sin hath made our foe,
To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? But thou can'st best perform that office where thou


Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child,
Her false-imagined loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
And render him with patience what he lent;
This if thou do, he will an offspring give,
That, till the world's last end, shall make thy name
to live.


May tell at length how green eyed Neptune raves,
In Heaven's defiance mustering all his waves;
Then sing of secret things that came to pass
When beldam Nature in her cradle was;
And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old,
Such as the wise Demodocus once told
In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast,
While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest,
Are held with his melodious harmony
In willing chains and sweet captivity.
But fie, my wandering muse, how thou dost stray!
Expectance calls thee now another way;
Thou knowest it must be now thy only bent
To keep in compass of thy predicament:
Then quick about thy proposed business come,
That to the next I may resign my room.

At a Vacation Exercise in the college, part Latin, part Eng.
lish. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus began.
HAIL, native Language, that by sinews weak
Did'st move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
And madest imperfect words with childish trips
Half unpronounced, slide through my infant lips,
Driving dumb Silence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely sat two years before!
Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,
That now I use thee in my latter task:
Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:
Thou needest not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither packed the worst:
And, if it happens as I did forecast,
The daintiest dishes shall be served up last,
1 pray thee then deny me not thy aid,
For this same small neglect that I have made:
But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure,
And from thy wardrobe bring the chiefest treasure." Your son," said she, (" nor can you it prevent,)
Not those new fangled toys, and trimming slight
Which takes our late fantastics with delight;
But cull those richest robes, and gayest attire,
Which deepest spirits, and choicest wits desire.
I have some naked thoughts that rove about,
And loudly knock to have their passage out;
And, weary of their place do only stay
Till thou hast decked them in thy best array;
That so they may, without suspect or fears,
Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears;
Yet I had rather, if I were to choose,
Thy service in some graver subject use,
Such as may make thee search thy coffers round,
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound:
Such where the deep transported mind may soar
Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door
Look in, and see each blissful deity

Then Ens is represented as father of the predicaments his two
sons, whereof the eldest stood for substance with his canons,
which Ens, thus speaking, explains.

Good luck befriend thee, son; for at thy birth,
The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth;
Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy
Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie,
And sweetly singing round about thy bed,
Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head.
She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst

From eyes of mortals walk invisible:

Yet there is something that doth force my fear; }
For once it was my dismal hap to hear
A sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age,
That far events full wisely could presage,
And in time's long and dark prospective glass
Foresaw what future days should bring to pass;

How he before the thunderous throne doth lie,
Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings

To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings
Immortal nectar to her kingly sire:

Shall subject be to many an accident.

O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king,
Yet every one shall make him underling;
And those that can not live from him asunder,
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under;
In worth and excellence he shall outgo them,
Yet, being above them, he shall be below them;
From others he shall stand in need of nothing,
Yet on his brother shall depend for clothing.
To find a foe it shall not be his hap;
And peace shall lull him in her flowery lap;
Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door
Devouring war shall never cease to roar;
Yea, it shall be his natural property
To harbour those that are at enmity.
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot?"
The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose, then Rela
tion was called by his name.

Rivers, arise; whether thou be the son

Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun,

And misty regions of wide air next under,

And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder,

Or Trent, who, like some earthborn giant spreads
His thirty arms along the indented meads;

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Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; And speckled vanity

Will sicken soon and die,

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; And hell itself will pass away,

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering


When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet,

As never was by mortal finger strook;

Divinely warbled voice

Answering the stringed noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took;

The air, such pleasures loath to lose,


Yea, Truth and Justice then

Will down return to men,

Orbed in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, Mercy will sit between,

Throned in celestial sheen;

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering;

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heaven- And Heaven, as at some festival, ly close.

Nature that heard such sound,

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling, Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling;

She knew such harmony alone

Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall,

But wisest Fate says no,

This must not yet be so,

The babe yet lies in smiling infancy,
That on the bitter cross

Must redeem our loss:

So both himself and us to glorify:
Yet first to those ychained in sleep,

Could hold all Heaven and earth in happier union. The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through

At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light.

the deep!

With such a horrid clang

That with long beams the shamefaced night ar- As on Mount Sinai rang,


The helmed cherubim,

And sworded seraphim,

While the red fire and smouldering clouds outbrake:

The aged earth aghast,

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings dis- With terror of that blast,


Harping in loud and solemn choir,

Shall from the surface to the centre shake;

When, at the world's last session,

With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his

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And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. keep.

Ring out, ye crystal spheres,

Once bless our human ears,

(If ye have power to touch our senses so;)

And let your silver chime

Move in melodious time,

And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; And, with your ninefold harmony,

Make up full concert to the angelic symphony.

The oracles are dumb,

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiv. ing.

Apollo from his shrine

Can no more divine,

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell,

Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

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