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

Let us fly this cursed place,

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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 state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wish'd presence, and beside
All the fwains that near abide,

With jigs, and rural dance refort;

We shall catch them at their sport,
And our fudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and chear;

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Come let us hafte, the ftars grow high,
But night fits monarch yet in the mid sky.

The Scene changes, prefenting Ludlow town and the Prefident's caftle; then come in country dancers, after them the attendent Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.

SONG.

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

Till next fun-fhine holiday;

Here be without duck or nod

Other trippings to be trod

Of lighter toes, and such court guise

As Mercury did first devise

With the mincing Dryades

On the lawns, and on the leas.

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This fecond Song presents them to their Father and Mother.

Noble Lord, and Lady bright,

I have brought ye new delight,
Here behold fo goodly grown

Three fair branches of your own;

Heav'n hath timely try'd their youth,

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Their faith, their patience, and their truth,

And sent them here through hard afsays

With a crown of deathless praise,
To triumph in victorious dance
O'er sensual folly, and intemperance.

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The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.

Spir. To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye,

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Revels the spruce and jocond Spring,

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

Thither all their bounties bring:

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Than her purfled scarf can fhew,

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And drenches with Elysian dew
(Lift mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roses,
Where young Adonis oft reposes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In flumber soft, and on the ground

ΙΟΙΟ

Sadly

Sadly fits th' Affyrian queen;

But far above in spangled fheen

Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc'd,

Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc'd,
After her wand'ring labors long,
Till free confent the Gods among
Make her his eternal bride,

And from her fair unspotted fide
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy; so Jove hath fworn.
But now my task is smoothly done,

I can fly, or I can run

Quickly to the green earth's end,

Where the bow'd welkin flow doth bend,
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 ye how to clime
Higher than the fphery chime;
Or if Virtue feeble were,

Heav'n itself would ftoop to her.

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XVII.

LYCIDA S.

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

YET
YYe Myrtles brown, with Ivy never fere,

ET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more

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

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Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5
Bitter conftraint, and fad occafion dear,
Compels me to disturb 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 must not flote upon his watry bier
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of fome melodious tear.
Begin then, Sifters of the facred well,
That from beneath the feat of Jove doth spring,
Begin, and fomewhat loudly fweep the firing.
Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse,
So may fome gentle Muse

With lucky words favor my

And as he paffes turn,

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deftin'd urn,

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And

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