Towred Cities please us then,
And the bufie humm of men,
Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,
In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of Ladies, whofe bright Eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prife,
Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend
To win her Grace, whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear
In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask, and antique Pageantry,
Such fights as youthful Poets dream
On Summer Eeves by haunted ftream.
Then to the well-trod Stage anon,
If Johnson's learned Sock be on,
Or fweeteft Shakespear, fancy's child,
Warble his native Wood-notes wild,
And ever against eating Cares,
Lap me in foft Lydian Aires,
Married to immortal verfe
Such as the meeting Soul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of lincked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwifting all the chains that ty
The hidden foul of harmony.
That Orphens felf may heave his head
From golden flumber on a Bed
Of heapt Elyfian flowres, and hear
Such ftreins as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half regain'd Eurydice.
These delights, if thou canft give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.
Il Penferofo.
Ence vain deluding joyes,
The brood of folly without father bred, How little you befted,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys; Dwell in fome idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy fhapes poffefs, As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that People the Sun Beams, Or likeft hovering dreams
The fickle Penfioners of Morpheus train
But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy,
Hail divineft Melancholy,
Whose Saintly visage is too bright
To hit the Senfe of human fight;
And therefore to our weaker view,
O'er-laid with black ftaid Wifdem's hue,
Black, but fuch as in esteem,
Prince Memnon's Sifter might befeem,
Or that starr'd Ethiope Queen that ftrove
To fet her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended
Yet thou art higher far defcended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vefta long of yore,
To folitary Saturn bore;
His daughter the (in Saturn's reign,
Such mixture was not held a ftain)
Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades
He met her, and in fecret fhades
Of woody Ida's inmoft grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove.
Come penfive Nun, devout and pure,
Sober, ftedfaft, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train,
And fable ftole of Cipres Lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted ftates
With ev'n ftep, and musing gate,
And look's commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt foal fitting in thine eyes:
There held in holy paffion ftill,
Forget thy felf to Marble, till
With a fad Leadén downward caft,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Faft, that oft with Gods doth diet,
And hears the Mufes in a ring,
Ay
round about Jove's Altar fing.
And add to thefe retired Leafure,
That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure;
But first, and chiefeft, with thee bring,
Him that yon foars' on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The Cherub Contemplation,
And the mute Silence hift along,
'Lefs Philomel will deign a Song,
In her sweetest, faddeft plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night,
While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
Gently o'er th' accuftom'd Oke;
Sweet Bird that thunn'ft the noife of folly,
Most musical, moft melancholy!
Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among,
I woo to hear thy Eeven-Song;
And miffing thee, I walk unfeen
On the dry fmooth-haven Green,,
To behold the wandring Moon,
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been lead aftray
Through the Heav'ns wide pathlefs way;
And off, as if her head the bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a Plat of rifing ground,
I hear the far-off Curfen found,
Over fome wide-water'd hoar,
Swinging flow with fullen roars,
Or if the Air will not permit,
Some still removed place will fit,
Where glowing Embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all refort of mirth,
Save the Cricket on the hearth,
Or the Belman's drowfie charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm :
Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,
Be feen in fome high lonely Tow'r,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unfphear
The fpirit of Plato to unfold
What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forfook
Her manfion in this fleshly nook:
And of those Demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whofe power hath a true confent
With Planet, or with Element.
Sometime let Gorgeous Tragedy
In Scepter'd Pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Or what (though rare) of later age,
Ennobled hath the Buskin'd ftage.
But, O fad Virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musaus from his bower,
Or bid the Soul of Orpheus fing
Such notes as warbled to the ftring
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