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And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask, and antique Pageantry,
Such sights as Youthful Poets dream
On Summer Eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod Stage anón,
If Johnson's learned Stock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespear’s fancy's child,
Warble his native Wood-notes wild,
And ever against eating Cares,
Lap me in soft Lydian Aires
Married to immortal verse
Such as the meeting Soul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out,,,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that ty
The hidden Soul of harmony.
That Orpheus self may heave his head
From Golden slumber on a Bed
Of heapt Elysian flowers, and hear
Such streins as would have won the ear

Of

Of Pluto, to have quite set free
His half regain’d Eurydice.
These delights, if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I'mean to live.

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Il Penseroso.

HE

Ence vain deluding joyés

The brood of folly without father bred, How little

you

bested, Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys; Dwell in some idle brain,

And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless

As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams, Or likest hovering dreams ?

The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train. But hail thou Goddess, fage and holy, Hail divinest Melancholy,) 'L; Whose Saintly visage is too brighe sysler vi? To hit the Sense of human sight;

And

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And therefore to our weaker view,
O'er-laid with black staid Wisdom's hụe,
Black, but such as in esteem,
Prince Memnon's Sister might beseem,
Or that starr'd Ethiope Queen that strove
To set her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended,
Yet thou art higher far descended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vefta long of yore
To folitary Saturn bore ;
His daughter she (in Saturn's reign,
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering Bowers, and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove;
While

yet there was no fear of Jove,
Come pensive Nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train,
And fable stole of Cypres Lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn. '.

Come,

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Come, but keep thy wonted state,
With ev'n step, and musing gate,
And looks commerling with the skies,
Thy rapt Soul sitting in thine

eyes ;
There held in holy passion still,
Forget thy self to Marble, till
With a sad Leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,
Ay round about Jove's Alcar sing,
And add to these retired Leasure,
That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure ;
But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding the ficry-wheeled throne,
The Cherub Contemplation,
And the mute Silence hist along,
?Less Philomel will deign a Song,
In her sweetest, saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night,

While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
Gently o’er th'accustom'd Oke;
Sweet Bird that funn'st the noise of folly,
Most Musical, moft Melancholy!
Thee Chauntress of the Woods among,
I woo to hear thy Even-Song;
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven Green,
To behold the wandring Moon,
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been lead astray
Through the Heav'ns wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head the bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a Plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off Curfeu found,
Over some wide water'd shoar,
Swinging slow with fullen roar;
Or if the Air will not permit,
Some ftill removed place will fit,
Where glowing Embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,

Far

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