And the Cherubic host in thousand quires With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, Singing everlastingly : That we on earth, with undiscording voice, May rightly answer that melodious noise; Jarred against Nature's chime, and with harsh din To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed In first obedience and their state of good. And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light! John Milton. 15 20 25 LXXXVII THE RAINBOW. Still young and fine! but what is still in view For thy new light, and trembled at each shower! 5 IO When I behold thee, though my light be dim, LXXXVIII L'ALLEGRO. Henry Vaughan. 15 Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, 5 Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. But come, thou Goddess fair and free, In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth; With two sister Graces more, The frolic wind that breathes the spring, As he met her once a-maying, There on beds of violets blue, And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, Jest, and youthful Jollity, Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 10 15 20 25 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And in thy right hand lead with thee To live with her, and live with thee, And singing startle the dull night From his watch tower in the skies, 330 35 40 45 While the cock, with lively din, Scatters the rear of darkness thin; 50 And to the stack, or the barn-door, Stoutly struts his dames before : Oft listening how the hounds and horn From the side of some hoar hill, 55 Through the high wood echoing shrill : By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, 60 And then in haste her bower she leaves, To many a youth, and many a maid, 95 And young and old come forth to play Till the livelong daylight fail : Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 100 With stories told of many a feat, Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, To earn his cream-bowl duly set, 105 ΠΟ Ere the first cock his matin rings. Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 115 Where throngs of knights and barons bold, 120 Of wit, or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend. 125 In saffron robe, with taper clear, On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learnèd sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, And ever against eating cares 135 Lap me in soft Lydian airs, |