And every bofky bourn from fide to fide,
My daily walks and ancient nighbourhood:
And if your ftray-attendance be yet lodg'd,
Or fhroud within thefe limits, I fhall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark
From her thatch'd pallat rowfe; if otherwife
I can conduct you, lady, to a low
But loyal cottage, where you may be fafe
Till further queft.La. Shepherd, I take thy word,
And truft thy honeft offer'd courtesy,
Which oft is fooner found in lowly fheds
With fmoaky rafters, than in tap'ftry halls
And courts of princes, where it firft was nam'd,
And yet is molt pretended: in a place
Lefs warranted than this, or lefs fecure
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
Eye me, bleft Providence, and fquare my trial,
To my proportion'd ftrength. Shepherd, lead on.
Eld. Bro. Unmuffle ye faint ftars, and thou fair moon That wont'st to love the travellers beniz gazety
Stoop thy pale vifage through an amber cloud,
And difinherit Chaos, that reigns here foot
In double night of darknefs, and of fhades, und 19
Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
With black ufurping mills, fome gentle taperk kah
Though a rufh-candle from the wicker hole
Of fome clay habitation visit us
With thy long levell'd rule of ftreaming light, od o
And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,
Or Tyrian Cynofüre. 2. Bro. Or if our eyes
Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear
The folded flocks pen'd in their watled-cotes,
Or found of paftoral reed with oaten flops, blow-
Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock i sudji-
Count the night watches to his feathery dames,
'Twould be fome folace yet, fome little chearing!
In this clofe dungeon of innumerous bows.
But O that hapless virgin! our loft fifter,
Where may the wander now, whither betake her
From the chill dew, amongft rude burs and thistles?
Perhaps fome cold bank is her boulster now,
Or 'gainst the rugged bark of fome broad elm
Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with fad fears.
What if in wild amazement, and affright,
Or, while we speak, within the direful grafp
Of favage hunger, or of favage heat?
Eld. Bro. Peace, brother, be not over-exquifite To caft the fashion of uncertain evils;
For grant they be fo, while they reft unknown,
What need a man foreftall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would moft avoid?
Of if they be but falfe alarms of fear,
How bitter is fuch felf-delufion?
I do not think my fifter fo to feek,
Or fo unprincipled in virtue's book,
And the fweet peace that goodness bofoms ever,
As that the fingle want of light and noife
(Not being in danger, as I truft she is not)
Could ftir the conftant mood of her calm thoughts,
And put them into mif-becoming plight.
Virtue could fee to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though fun and moon
Were in the flat fea funk. And wifdom's felf
Oft feeks to fweet retired folitude,
Where with her beft nurfe contemplation,
She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,
That in the various buftle of refo.t
Were all too ruffled, and fometimes impair'd.
He that has light within his own clear breaft
May fit i' th' center, and enjoy bright day;
But he that hides a dark foul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the mid-day fun;
Himself is his own dungeon.
That mufing meditation most affects.
The penfive fecrecy of defart cell,
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds,
And fits as fafe as in a fenat houfe;
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds,
His few books, or his beads, or maple difk,
Or do his gray hairs any violence?
But beauty, like the fair Hefperian tree
Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
Of Dragon-watch with uninchanted eye,
To fave her bloffoms, and defend her fruit
From the rafh hand of bold incontinence.
You may as well spread out the unfunn'd heaps
Of mifers treasure by an outlaw's den,
And tell me it is fafe, as bid me hope
Danger will wink on opportunity,
And let a fingle helplefs maiden pafs
Uninjur'd in this wild furrounding wafte
Of night, or loneliness it recks me not, sal od bre
I fear the dread events that dog them both,
Left fome ill greeting touch attempt the perfon
Of our unowned fifter.
Eld, Bro. I do not, brother,
Infer, as if I thought my filter's ftate
Secure without all doubt, or controverfy:
Yet where an equal poife of hope and fear
Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is
That I incline to hope, rather than fear,
And gladly banifh fquint fufpicion.
My fifter is not fo defenceless left
As you imagine, fhe has a hidden ftrength
you remember not.
2 Bro. What hidden ftrength,
Unless the ftrength of heav'n, if you mean that?
Eld. Bro. I mean that too, but yet a hidden ftrength, Which if heav' gave it, may be term'd her own:
'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity:
She that has that, is clad in compleat fteel,
And like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen
May trace huge forefts, and unharbour'd heaths,
Infamous hills, and fandy perilous wildes,
Where through the facred rays of chastity,
No favage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer
Will dare to foil her virgin purity:
Yea there, where very defolation dwells
By grots, and caverns fhag'd with horrid shades,
She may pafs on with unblench'd majefty,
Be it not done in pride, or in presumption.
Some fay no evil thing that walks by night,
In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,
Blue meager hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,
That breaks his magic chains at Curfue time,
No goblin, or fwart fairy of the mine,
Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
Do ye believe me yet, or fhall I call
Antiquity from the old schools of Greece
To teftify the arms of chastity?
Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow,
Fair filver fhafted queen for ever chaste,
Wherewith the tam'd the brinded lionefs,
And spotted mountain pard, but fet at nought
The frivolous bolt of Cupid; gods and men
Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen o' th' woods.
What was that fnaky-headed Gorgon fhield
That wife Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin,
Wherewith the freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone,
But rigid looks of chafle aufterity,
And noble grace that dafh'd brute violence
With fudden adoration, and blank aw?
So dear to heav'n is faintly chastity,
That when a foul is found fincerely fo,
A thousand liveried angels lacky her,
Driving far off each thing of fin and guilt,
And in clear dream, and folemn vifion,
Tell her of things that no grofs ear can hear,
Till oft converfe with heav'nly habitants
Begin to caft a beam on th' outward shape,
The unpolluted temple of the mind,
And turns it by degrees to the foul's effence,
Till all be made immortal; but when luft,
By unchalle looks, Joofe geftures, and foul talk,
But moft by leud and lavish act of fin,
Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
The foul grows clotted by contagion,
Imbodies, and imbrutes, till the quite lofe
The divine property of her first being,
Such are thofe thick and gloomy fhadows damp
Oft feen in charnel vaults, and fepulchres,
Lingring and fitting by a new-made grave,
As loth to leave the body that it lov'd,
And linkt itself by carnal fenfuality
To a degenerate and degraded state.
2 Bro. How charming is divine philofophy! Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools fuppofe, But mufical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd fweets,
Where no crude furfeit reigns. Eld. Bro: Lift, lift, I hear Some far off hollow break the filent air.
2 Bro. Methought fo too; what should it be?
Either fome one like us night-founder'd here,
Or elfe fome neighbour woodman,or, at worst,
Some roving robber calling to his fellows.
2 Bro. Heav'n keep my filter. Agen, agen, and near! Beft draw, and ftand upon our guard.
If he be friendly he comes well; if not,
Defence is a good caufe, and heav'n be for us.
The attendant fpirit, habited like a shepherd.. That hollow I fhould know, what are you? fpeak. Come not too near, you fall on iron flakes elfe.
Spir. What vo ce is that, my young lord? speak agen. 2 Bro. O brother, 'tis my father's fhepherd fure.
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