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And of those demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent

With planet, or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In scepter'd pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Peloris' lire,
Or the tale of Troy divine ;

100 Or what (though rare) of later age Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage.

But, O sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musaeus from his bower, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing

105 Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek And made Hell grant what Love did seek ! Or call up him that left half-told The story of Cambuscan bold,

11C Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canacé to wife, That own'd the virtuous ring and glass ; And of the wondrous horse of brass On which the Tartar king did ride : 115 And if aught else great bards beside In sage and solemn tunes have sung Of turneys, and of trophies hung, Of forests, and enchantments drear,

119 Where more is meant than meets the ear.

Thus, Night, oft see me in thy påle career, Till civil-suited Morn appear, Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont With the Attic Boy to hunt, But kercheft in a comely cloud

125 While rocking winds are piping loud, * Or usher'd with a shower still, When the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves With minute drops from off the eaves.

130 And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring

To archéd walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,
Of pine, or monumental oak,

Where the rude axe, with heavéd stroke,
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
There in close covert by some brook
Where no profaner eye may look,

140 Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honey'd thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing, And the waters murmuring, With such consort as they keep

145 Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep ; And let some strange mysterious dream Wave at his wings in airy stream Of lively portraiture display'd, Softly on my eyelids laid :

150 And, as I wake, sweet music breathe Above, about, or underneath, Sent by some Spirit to mortals good, Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail

155 To walk the studious cloister's pale, And love the high-embowed roof, With antique pillars massy-proof, And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light :

160 There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies,

165 And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.

And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell Where I may sit and rightly spell

170 Of every star that heaven doth show, And every herb that sips the dew ;

Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.

These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 176
And I with thee will choose to live.



Where the remote Bermudas ride
In the ocean's bosom unespied,
From a small boat that row'd along
The listening winds received this song :

• What should we do but sing His praise 5
That led us through the watery maze
Unto an isle so long unknown,
And yet far kinder than our own ?
Where He the huge sea-monsters wracks,
That lift the deep upon their backs,

He lands us on a grassy stage,
Safe from the storms and prelate's rage :
He gave us this eternal spring
Which here enamels everything,
And sends the fowls to us in care

On daily visits through the air ;
He hangs in shades the orange bright
Like golden lamps in a green night,
And does in the pomegranates close
Jewels more rich than Ormus shows : 20
He makes the figs our mouths to meet,
And throws the melons at our feet ;
But apples plants of such a price,
No tree could ever bear them twice.
With cedars chosen by His hand

From Lebanon He stores the land ;
And makes the hollow seas that roar
Proclaim the ambergris on shore.
He cast (of which we rather boast)
The Gospel's pearl upon our coast ;


And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound His name.
Oh ! let our voice His praise exalt
Till it arrive at Heaven's vault,

Which thence (perhaps) rebounding may
Echo beyond the Mexique bay!'
Thus sung they in the English boat
An holy and a cheerful note :
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time. 40



Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy,

Sphere-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verse! Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ

Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce; And to our high-raised phantasy present

5 That undisturbéd Song of pure concent Ay sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne

To Him that sits thereon, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ; Where the bright Seraphim in burning row 10 Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow; And the Cherubic host in thousand quires Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, Hymns devout and holy psalms

15 Singing everlastingly : That we on earth, with undiscording voice May rightly answer that melodious noise ; As once we did, till disproportion'd sin Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made 21 To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good.

O may we soon again renew that Song, 25 And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long

To His celestial consort us unite, To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light!




'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son-
Aloft in awful state
The godlike hero sate
On his imperial throne ;

5 His valiant peers were placed around, Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound

(So should desert in arms be crown'd);
The lovely Thais by his side
Sate like a blooming eastern bride

In flower of youth and beauty's pride
Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave

None but the brave
None but the brave deserves the fair !" 15


Timotheus placed on high

Amid the tuneful quire
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre :
The trembling notes ascend the sky

And heavenly joys inspire.
The song began from Jove
Who left his blissful seats above-
Such is the power of mighty love !
A dragon's fiery form belied the god ;
Sublime on radiant spires he rode
When he to fair Olympia prest,
And while he sought her snowy breast,



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