And ye, the breathing roses of the wood,

Fair filver buskin'd Nymphs as great and good,
I know this quest of yours, and free intent
Was all in honor and devotion meant
To the great miftrefs of yon' princely fhrine,
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 shallow-ferching Fame hath left untold;
Which I full oft amidst thefe fhades alone
Have fat to wonder at, and gaze upon:
For know by lot from Jove I am the Power
Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower,
To nurfe the faplings tall, and curl the grove
With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.
And all my plants I fave from nightly ill
Of noisome winds, and blatting vapors chill:
And from the boughs brush off the evil dew,
And heal the arms of thwarting thunder blue,
Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites,
Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites.
When evening gray doth rife, I fetch my round
Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground,
And early ere the odorous breath of morn
Awakes the flumb'ring leaves, or taffel'd horn,
Shakes the high thicket, hafte I all about
Number my ranks, and visit every sprout

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That fit upon the nine infolded spheres,
And fing to thofe that hold the vital shears,

With puiffant words, and murmurs made to bless;
But elfe in deep of night, when drowfinefs
Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then liken I
To the celeftial Sirens harmony,

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And turn the adamantin fpindle round,

On which the fate of Gods and men is wound.
Such fweet compulsion doth in music lie,
To lull the daughters of Neceflity,
And keep unfteady nature to her law,

And the low world in measur'd motion draw
After the heav'nly tune, which none can hear
Of human mold with grofs unpurged ear:
And yet fuch mufic worthieft were to blaze
The peerless highth of her immortal praife,
Whofe luftre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit
Inimitable founds, yet as we go,
Whate'er the skill of leffer Gods can show,
I will affay, her worth to celebrate,

And fo attend ye toward her glittering state;
Where ye may all that are of noble stem
Approach, and kifs her facred vefture's hem.

II. SON G.

'ER the fmooth enamell'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 star-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 seen.

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III. SONG.

Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more

By fandy Ladon's lilied banks, On old Lycæus or Cyllene hoar

Trip no more in twilight ranks, Though Erymanth your loss deplore,

A better foil fhall give ye thanks.

From the ftony Mænalus

Bring your flocks and live with us,
Here ye fhall have greater grace,
To ferve the Lady of this place.
Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,
Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Such a rural Queen

All Arcadia hath not feen.

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The EARL of BRIDGEWATER,
then Prefident of WALES.

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