But love is a mysterious fire,
Nor can in air or ice expire:
Nor will this Phoenix be supprest
But with the ruin of his nest.

JOHN DRYDEN

WAS born in 1631: died in 1701. From the works of this admirable poet the following specimen is selected, because it seems to have escaped the notice of former collectors, though written with all the characteristic fire and spirit of its author.

[The Invocation of the Ghost of Laius by Tiresias.] [From the Tragedy of " Edipus."]

Tir. CHOOSE the darkest part o' th' grove;
Such as ghosts at noon-day love.

Dig a trench, and dig it nigh

Where the bones of Laius lie:

Altars rais'd of turf or stone

Will th' infernal powers have none.—
Answer me, if this be done.
Chor. 'Tis done.

Tir. Is the sacrifice made fit?—
Draw her backward to the pit;
Draw the barren heifer back :

Barren let her be, and black.

Cut the curled hair that

grows

Full betwixt her horns and brows:

And turn your faces from the sun.—
Answer me, if this be done.

Chor. 'Tis done.

Tir. Pour in blood, and blood-like wine,
To mother Earth and Proserpine;
Mingle milk into the stream;

Feast the ghosts that love the stream:
Snatch a brand from funeral pile;
Toss it in to make them boil:

And turn your faces from the sun.—
Answer me, if all be done.

Chor. All is done.

SONG.

1. Hear, ye sullen powers, below! Hear, ye taskers of the dead!

2. You that boiling cauldrons blow! You that scum the molten lead!

3. You that pinch with red-hot tongs! 1. You that drive the trembling hosts Of poor, poor ghosts

With sharpen'd prongs!

2. You that thrust them off the brim!

You that plunge them when they swim!

Ten thousand, thousand, thousand fathoms low. Chor. 'Till they drown, &c.

1. Music for a while

2.

Shall your cares beguile:

Wondering how your pains were eas'd!

And disdaining to be pleas'd!

3. Till Alecto free the dead

1.

From their eternal bands;

Till the snakes drop from her head,
And whip from out her hands.

Come away,

Do not stay,

But obey

While we play,

For hell's broke up, and ghosts have holy-day.

Chor. Come away, &c.

1. Laius! 2. Laius! 3. Laius!

1. Hear! 2. Hear! 3. Hear!

Tir. Hear and appear!

By the Fates that spun thy thread! Chor. Which are three

Tir. By the Furies fierce and dread!

Chor. Which are three

Tir. By the judges of the dead!

Chor. Which are three

Three times three

Tir. By hell's blue flame!
By the Stygian lake!

And by Demogorgon's name
At which ghosts quake!
Hear and appear!