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Sighs to amorous sighs returning,
Pulses beating, bosoms burning,
Bosoms with warm wisbes panting,
Words to speak those wishes wanting,
Are the only tumults bere,
All the woes you need to fear;

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Love and barmony reigns bere.
Lady. How long must I, by magick fetters chain'd
To this detested seat, hear odious strains
Of shameless folly, which my soul abhors ?

Com. Ye sedge-crown'd Naiades, by twilight seen Along Mæander's mazy

border

green, At Comus' call appear in all your azure sheen. [He waves his Wand, the Naiads enter, and range

themselves in order to dance.] Now swiftly slow let Lydian measıires move, And breathe the pleasing pangs of gentle love. [“ The Naiads dance a slow dance expressive of the

passion of Love.] [After this dance" the pastoral Nymph advances

slow, with a melancholy and desponding ait, to the side of the stage, and repears, by way of soliloquy, ibe first six lines, and then sings the ballad. In the mean time she is observed by EUPHROSYNE, who by ber gestures expresses so the audience her different sentiments of the subje&t of her complaint, suitably 9 the chara&ter of their several songs.]

E

RECITATIVE.

How gentle was my Damon's air !
Like sunny beams his golden hair,
His voice was like the nightingale's,
More sweet his breath than flow'ry vales.
How hard such beauties to resign!
And
yet

that cruel task is mine!

A BALLAD.

On every hill, in every grové,

Along the margin of each stream, Dear consicous scenes of former love, I mourn, and Damon.is

ту

theme. The hills, the groves, the streams remain, 60 But Damon there I seek in vain.

Now to the mossy.cave I fly,

Where to my swain I oft bave sung, Well pleas'd the brotvsing goats to spy',

As o'er the airy steep they hung. The mossy cave, the goats remain, But Damon there I seek in vain.

« Now through the winding vale I pass,

And sigh to see the well-known shade; " I weep and kiss the bended grass,

Where love and Damon fondly play'd. The vale, the shade, the grass remain, " But Damon there I seek in vain,"

From hill, from dale, each charm is fled,

Groves, flocks, and fountains please no more, Each flower in pity droops its head,

All nature does my loss deplore.
All, all reproach the faithless swain,
Yer Damon still I seek in vain.

RECITATIVE. By EUPHROSYNE.

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Love, the greatest bliss below,
How to taste few women know;
Fewer still the way have hit
How a fickle swain to quit.
Simple nymphs then learn of me,
How to treat inconstancy.

BALLAD.

The wanton god, that pierces hearts,
Dips in gall his pointed darts;
But the nymph disdains to pine ;
Who bathes the wound with

wine.
Farewell lovers, when they're cloy'd;
If I am scorn'd, because enjoy’d,
Sure the squeamisb fops are free
To rid me of dull company.
They have charms whilst mine can please ;
I love them much, but more my ease ;
Nor jealous fears my love molest,
Nor faithless vows shall break my rest.

rosy

Why should they e'er give me pain,
Wha to give me joy disdain?
All I hope of mortal man,
Is to love me whilst be can.

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110

COMUS speaks.
Cast thine eyes around, and see
How from every element
Nature's sweets are cull'd for thee,
And her choicest blessings sent.

“ Fire, water, earth, and air, combine
“ To compose the rish repast,
“ Their aid the distant seasons join
“ To court thy smell, thy sight, thy taste."

Hither summer, autumn, spring,
Hither all your tributes bring :
All on bended knee be seen

Paying homage to your queen. [ After this they put on tbeir chaplets and prepare for the feast : while Comus is advancing with his

cup, and one of his attendants offers a chaplet to " the Lady, (which she throws on the ground with

« indignation) the preparation for the feast is interrupted by lofty and solemn musick from above, rubence the second Attendant Spirit enters gra. dually in a splendid machine, repearing the following lines to the Lady, and sings, remaining still invisible to COMUS and his crew.

From the realms of peace above,
From the source of heavenly love,
From the starry throne of Jove,
Where tuneful Muses in a glittering ring
To the celestial lyre's eternal string
Patient Virtue’s triumph sing;
To these dim labyrinths where mortals stray,
Mazd in passion's pathless way,
To save thy purer breast from spot and blame
Thy guardian Spirit came.

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SONG.

Nor on beds of fading flowers,

Shedding soon their gaudy pride;
Nor with swains in Syren bowers,

Will true pleasure long reside.
On awful virtue's bill sublime,

Entbron'd sits the immortal fair;
Who wins her beight, must patient climb,

The steps are peril, toil and care.
So from the first did Jove ordain,
Eternal bliss for transient pain.

[Exit obe Spirit, the music playing loud and solemn.

Lady. Thanks, heav'nly songster! whosoc'er thou

art, Who deign'st to enter these unhallow'd walls; To bring the song of virtue to mine ear!

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