Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep; And let fome strange mysterious dream Wave at his Wings in airy stream, Of lively portraiture difplay'd, Softly on my eye-lids laid:
And, as I wake, fweet mufick breathe Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by fome fpirit to mortals good, Or th' unfeen Genius of the Wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the ftudious Cloyster's pale, And love the high embowed Roof, With antique Pillars mafly proof, And storied Windows richly dight, Cafting a dim religious light: There let the pealing Organ blow, To the full-voic'd Choir below, In Service high, and Anthems clear,
As may with fweetnefs through mine ear Diffolve me into extafies,
And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy Gown, and moffy Cell, Where I may fit, and rightly spell Of every Star that heav'n doth fhew, And every Herb that fips the dew; Till old experience do attain To fomething like Prophetic ftrain. Thefe pleasures, Melancholy, give, And I with thee will choofe to live.
Part of an Entertainment prefented to the Countess Dowager of Derby at Harefield, by fome Noble Perfons of ber Family, who appear on the Scene in Paftoral Habit, moving toward the Seat of State, with this Song.
OOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look! What fudden blaze of Majesty
Is that which we from hence defcry,
Too divine to be mistook?
This, this is the
To whom our vows and wishes bend, Here our folemn fearch hath end."
Fame, that her high worth to raise, Seem'd erft fo lavish and profufe, We may juftly now accufe Of detraction from her praise; Lefs than half we find expreft, Envy bid conceal the reft. Mark what radiant state she spreads, In circle round her shining throne,
Shooting her beams like filger threads and This, this is the alone, sunt mot so pad,wal Ba Sitting like a Goddess bright by 21 10 In the center of her light i shun 57 Might be the wila Latong bea
Or the towered Cybele, a ova Incl¶ vir da bna Mother of a hundred gods,
Juno dares not give her odds;
Who had thought this clime had held
A Deity fo unparalleled bi-sul doro 14 £29 As they come forpard, the Genius of the Wood appeart, bavound turning toward them, speaks.
Gen. Tay gentle Swains; for tho' in this difguife, fee bright honour fparkle through your
Of that renowned flood, fo often fung,laq do W Divine Alpheus, who by fecret fluce, Stole under Seas to meet his Arethufe ; And ye the breathing Rofes of the Wood, Fair filver-bufkin'd Nymphs as great and good, I know, this queft of yours, and free intent Was all in honour and devotion meant To the great Miftrefs of yon princely thrine, Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, And with all helpful fervice will comply To further this night's glad folemnity; And lead ye, where ye may more near behold What fhallow-fearching Fame hath left untold: Which I full oft amidst thefe fhades alone
Have fat to wonder ag and gaze upon is yniłocią For know, by lot from Jove, I am the pow? INT Of this fair Wood, and live in t Daken bow, To nurse the faplings tall, and curl the grove With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove, And all my Plants I fave from nightly los sa 10 Of noisom winds, and blafting Vapours chif dec And from the Boughs Brush off the evil dewo And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, Or what the crofs dire-looking Planet finites, Or hurtful Worm with canker'd venom bites, du ald When Ev'ning gray doth rife, I fetch my round Over the
the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, And early, ere the odorous breath of morn Awakes the dumb'ring leaves, or taffer'd hors Shakes the high thicket, hafte I all about, Number my ranks, and vifit every prout With puiffant words, and murmurs made to blefs But slfe in deep of night, when drowsiness Hath lockt up mortal Senfe, then liften To the celeftial Sirens harmony,
That fit upon the nine enfolded Spheres, And fing to those that hold the vital thears,, And turn the Adamantine fpindle round,
On which the fate of gods and men is wound
Such fweet compulfion doth in mufick lie, ba To lull the daughters of Neceffity,
And keep unfteady Nature to her law,
And the low world in meafur'd motion dray After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of humane mould with grofs unpurged ear;
And yet fuch mufick worthieft were to blaze The peerless height of her immortal praise, Whofe luftre leads us, and for her most fit, If my inferior hand or voice could hit Inimitable founds: yet as we go, What-e'er the skill of teffer gods can fhow, I will affay, her worth to celebrate; And fo attend ye tow'rd her glittering Aate": Where ye may all that are of noble stem Approach, and kifs her facred vestures hem.-
ER the fmooth enamel'd green, Where no print of step hath been, Follow me, as I fing,
And touch the warbled ftring.
Under the fhady roof
Of branching Elm ftar-proof, Follow me.
I will bring you where the fits, Clad in fplendor, as befits Her Deity.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not feen.
Nymphs and Shepherds, dance no more
By fandy Ladon's lillied banks;
On old Lycæus, or Cyllene hoar
Trip no more in twilight ranks : Though Erymanth your lofs deplore,
A better foil fhall give ye thanks.
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