Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

The Musk-rofe and the well attir'd Woodbine,

With Cowflips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that fad embroidery wears,
Bid Amarantus all his beauty fhed,

And Daffadillies fill their Cups with tears,

To ftrew the Laureat Herse where Lycid lies.
For fo to interpose a little ease,

Let our frail thoughts daily with false furmife.

Ay me! Whilft thee the shores, and founding Seas
Wash far away, where e'er thy bones are hurl'd,
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,

Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
Vifit'ft the bottom of the monstrous World;
Or whether thou to our moift vows deny'd,
Sleep'ft by the Fable of Bellerus old
Where the great Vision of the guarded Mount
Looks toward Naymancos and Boyona's hold;
Look home-ward Angel now and melt with ruth.
And, O ye Dolphins, waft the helpless youth,
Weep no more, woful Shepherds weep no more,
For Lycidas your forrow is not dead,

Sunk though he be beneath the

watry floar

So finks the day-star in the Ocean bed,

And

And yet anon repairs his drooping head,

And tricks his beams, and with new fpangled Ore, Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:

So Lycidas funk 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 his oozy Locks he laves
And hears the unexpreffive nuptial Song,
In the bleft Kingdoms meek of joy and love.
There entertain him all the Saints above,
In folemn 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 fhore,
In thy large recompence, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perillous flood.

Thus fang the uncouth Swain to th' Okes and rills,
While the still morn went out with Sandals gray,
He touch'd the tender stops of various Quills,
With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay:
And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the Hills,
And now was dropt into the Western Bay;

[ocr errors]

At last he rose, and twitch'd his Mantle blew :

To morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new.

L'Allegro.

Ence loathed Melancholy

HE

Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born,

In Stygian Cave forlorne,

[holy, 'Mongft horrid fhapes, and fhrieks and fights un

Find out fome uncouth cell,

[wings, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous

And the night-Raven fings;

There under Ebon fhades, and low-brow'd Rocks,

As ragged as thy Locks,

In dark Cimmerian defart ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two Sifter Graces more
To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;

Or

Or whether (as fome Sager fing)

The frolick Wind that breaths the Spring.

Zephir with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a Maying,

There on beds of Violets blew,

And fresh-blown Rofes washt in dew
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buckfom, blith, and debonair.
Haste thee Nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft 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 fleek;

Sport that wrinkled Care derides,

And Laughter holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go

On the light fantastick toe,

And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee Honour due,

Mirth, admit me of thy cruc

[ocr errors][merged small]

To live with her, and live with thee,

In unreproved pleasures free,
To hear the Lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-towre in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come in fpight of forrow,
And at my window bid good morrow,
Through the Sweet-Briar, 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 ftruts his Dames before,.

Oft lift'ning how the Hounds and Horn
Chearly rouse the flumb'ring morn,

From the fide of fome Hoar Hill,
Through the high wood echoing fhrill.
Some time walking not unfeen

By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green,
Right against the Eastern gate,

Where the great Sun begins his state,

Roab'd

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »