Gentle Swain, at thy request

I am here.

SPIR. Goddess dear,

We implore thy pow'rful hand
To undo the charmed band

Of true virgin here distrest,

Through the force, and through the wile

Of unbleft inchanter vile.

SAB. Shepherd, 'tis my office beft To help infnared chastity:

Brightest Lady, look on me;

Thus I fprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure
I have kept of precious cure,
Thrice upon thy fingers tip,

Thrice upon thy rubied lip;

925

Next this marble venom'd feat,

Smear'd with gums of glutenous heat,

I touch with chafte palms moist and cold :

Now the fpell hath loft his hold;

And I must hafte ere morning hour

930

To wait in Amphitrite's bow'r.

Sabrina defcends, and the Lady rifes out of her feat.

SPIR. Virgin, daughter of Locrine

Sprung of old Anchises line,

May thy brimmed waves for this

May thy lofty head be crown'd

With many a tow'r and terras round,

And here and there thy banks upon

945

1

With groves of myrrh, and cinnamon.

Come, Lady, while Heav'n lends us grace,

Let us fly this cursed place,

Left the forcerer us entice,
With fome other new device.
Not a waste, or needlefs found,
Till we come to holier ground;
I fhall be your faithful guide
Through this gloomy covert wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your Father's refidence,
Where this night are met in ftate
Many a friend to gratulate
His wish'd prefence, and beside
All the fwains that near abide,

With jiggs, and rural dance refort;

We shall catch them at their sport,

And our fudden coming there

950

955

960

Will double all their mirth and chear;
Come let us hafte, the ftars grow high,
But night fits monarch yet in the mid fky.

965

The fcene changes, prefenting Ludlow town and the. Prefident's castle; then come in country dancers, *after them the attendant Spirit, with the two Bro thers and the Lady.

SON G.

SPIR. Back, Shepherds, back, enough your play,

Till next fun-fhine holyday;
Here be without duck or nod
Other trippings to be trod

970

Of lighter toes, and fuch court guise

As Mercury did first devise

With the mincing Dryades

On the lawns and on the leas.

975

This fecond Song prefents them to their Father and

Mother.

Noble Lord and Lady bright,

I have brought you new delight,
Here behold fo goodly grown
Three fair branches of your own;

Heav'n hath timely try'd their youth,

Their faith, their patience, and their truth,

And fent them here through hard affays

Revels the spruce and jocund fpring,

995

The Graces, and the rofy-bofom'd Hours,

Thither all their bounties bring;

That there eternal Summer dwells

And weft-winds with mufky wing

About the cedarn alleys fling.

1000

Nard and Caffia's balmy smells.

Iris there with humid bow

Waters the odorous banks, that blow

Flowers of more mingled hue
Than her purfled scarf can fhew,
And drenches with Elyfian dew
(Lift mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roles,
Where young Adonis foft reposes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In flumber foft, and on the ground
Sadly fits th' Affyrian queen;
But far above in spangled sheen

Celestial Cupid her fam'd fon advanc'd,
Holds his dear Pfyche fweet intranc'd,
After her wand'ring labors long
Till free confent the Gods among
Make her his eternal bride,
And from her fair unfpotted fide
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and joy; fo Jove hath fworn.
But now my tafk is fmoothly done,

I can fly, or I can run

Quickly to the green earth's end,

1005

1010

1015

1020

Where the bow'd welkin flow doth bend,

1025

And from thence can foar as foon

To the corners of the moon.

Mortals that would follow me, Love Virtue, fhe alone is free, She can teach you to clime Higher than the fphery chime; Or if Virtue feeble were,

Heav'n itself would stoop to her.

1012.

1030

th' Affyrian queen;] Venus, fo called because she was

first worshipped by the Affyrians.

XVII.

LYCIDAS. *

In this monody the author bewails a learned friend, unfortunately drown'd in his paffage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637, and by occafion foretels the ruin of our corrupted clergy then in their heighth.

Y

ET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more
Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never sore,

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude

Shatter your leaves from the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and fad occafion dear,
Compels me to difturb your feafon due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not fing for Lycidas? he knew
Himself to fing, and build the lofty rhime.
He muft not float upon his watry bier
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of fome meledious tear.
Begin then, Sifters of the facred well,

That from beneath the feet of Jove doth spring,
Begin, and fomewhat loudly sweep the string.

This poem was made upon the unfortunate and untimely death of Mr. Edward King, fon of Sir John King, Secretary for Ireland, a fellow-collegian and intimate friend of Milton, who as he was going to vifit his relations in Ireland, was drowned Aug. 10, 1637, in the 25th year of his age. This poem is with great judgment made of the paftoral kind, as both Mr. King and Milton had been defigned for holy orders and the paftoral care, which gives a peculiar propriety to several paffages in it.