Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage.
But, O sad Virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musæus from his bower,
Or hid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as warbled to the string.
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made Hell grant what love did seek.
Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wondrous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride;
And if aught else great bards beside
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of turneys and of trophies hung,
Of forests, and inchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.

105

110

115

120

Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited morn appear,

Not trick'd and froune'd as she was wont

With the Attic boy to hunt,

But kerchef'd in a comely cloud,

125

110 Cambuscan] In the Squier's Tale of Chaucer, see

Tyrwhitt's notes, vol. ii. p. 466, ed. 1798. Todd.

122 civil] Rom. and Juliet, act iii. sc. 4.

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black. Warton.

L

While rocking winds are piping loud,
Or usher'd with a shower stili,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves,
With minute drops from off the eaves.
And when the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves
Of pine, or monumental oak,
Where the rude axe with heaved stroke
Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
There in close covert by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from day's garish eye,
While the bee with honied thigh,
That at her flowery work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring
With such consort as they keep,

Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep;
And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings in airy stream

Of lively portraiture display'd,

131

135

110

145

Softly on my eyelids laid.
And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some Spirit to mortals good,
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antic pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light:
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full voic'd quire below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies,

And bring all heav'n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every star that heav'n doth show,
And every herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live.

150

155

160

165

170

175

156 pale] Warton conjectures that the right reading may be 'the studious cloister's pale.' i. e. enclosure.

L'ALLEGRO.

HENCE, loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights

Find out some uncouth cell,

[unholy,

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous

And the night raven sings;

[wings,

There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks,

As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In heav'n y-clep'd Euphrosyne,
And by Men, heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sager sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,

10

15

Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying;
There on beds of violets blue,

And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,

Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go,

On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,

22 wash'd] Shakesp. Tam. of Shrew, act ii. sc. 1. 'As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.'

Bowle.

25

30

35

24 buxom] To make one blithe, buxome, and deboneer." Randolph Aristippus, p. 310, ed. 1662. Todd.

28 Nods] With becks, and nods, and smiles againe.' Bur

ton's An. of Melanch. p. 449 (ed. 1628).

33 Come] Shakes. Tempest, act iv. sc. 2. Come and go,

،

Warton,

Each one tripping on his toe.' Newton.