PROLOGUE. OUR stedfast Bard, to his own genius true, Still bade his Muse* "fit audience find, tho' few;" Heav'n, bell, earth, chaos, he survey'd around: Such Milton was: 'tis ours to bring him forth, Such heav'n-taught numbers should be more than read, Paradise Lost, Book VII. ver. 31. Attend the strains; and should some meaner phrase Hang on the style and clog the nobler lays, Excuse what we with trembling hand supply, To give bis beauties to the public eye : His the pure essence, ours the grosser mean Thro' which his spirit is in action seen. Observe the force, observe the flame divine That glows, breathes, acts, in each harmonious line, Great objects only strike the gen'rous heart; Praise the sublime, o'erlook the mortal part: Be there your judgment, here your candour shewn ; Small is our portion—and we wish 'twere none. COMUS. ACT 1. The SCENE discovers a wild Wood. The first Attendant Spirit enters. BEFORE the starry threshold of Jove's court "My mansion is, where those immortal shapes "Of bright aërial spirits live inspher'd "In regions mild of calm and serene air, "Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot "Which men call earth, and with low-thoughted care "Confin'd and pester'd in this pinfold here "Strive to keep up a frail and fev'rish being, “ Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, “After this mortal change, to her true servants ΙΟ Amongst the enthron'd gods on sainted seats. "Yet some there are that by due steps aspire "To such my errand is; and but for such |