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The ruins of himself! now worn away
With age, yet ftill majestic in decay!
Sudden his eyes releas'd their watʼry store;
The much-enduring man could bear no more.
Doubtful he stood, if inftant to embrace
His aged limbs, to kifs his rev'rend face,
With eager transport to disclose the whole,
And pour at once the torrent of his foul?
Not fo: his judgment takes the winding way
Of question distant, and of foft essay,
More gentle methods on weak age employs,
And moves the forrows to enhance the joys.
Then to his fire with beating heart he moves,
And with a tender pleafantry reproves :
Who digging round the plant still hangs his head,
Nor aught remits the work, while thus he faid:
Great is thy fkill, O father! great thy toil,
Thy careful hand is ftamp'd on all the foil:
Thy fquadron'd vineyards well thy art declare,
The olive green, blue fig, and pendant pear;
And not one empty fpot cfcapes thy care.
On ev'ry plant and tree thy cares are thewn,
Nothing neglected but thyfelf alone.
Forgive me, father, if this fault I blame;
Age fo advanc'd may fome indulgence claim.
Not for thy floth, I deem thy lord unkind;
Nor fpeaks thy form a mean or fervile mind:
I read a monarch in that princely air,
The fame thy afpect, if the fame thy care;
Soft fleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine,
Thefe are the rights of age, and fhould be thine.
Who then thy mafter, fay and whofe the land
So drefs'd and manag'd by thy fkilful hand?
But chief, ch tell me (what I question most),

Is this the far-fam'd Ithacenfian coaft?
For fo reported the first man I view'd,
(Some furly iflander, of manners rude)
Nor farther conference vouchfaf'd to ftay;
Heedlefs he whistled, and purfued his way.
But thou whom years have taught to understand,
Humanely hear, and anfwer my demand:
A friend I feek, a wife one and a brave,
Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?
Time was (my fortunes then were at the best)
When at my houfe I lodg'd this foreign gueft;
He faid, from Ithaca's fair ifle he came,
And old Laertes was his father's naine.
To him, whatever to a gueft is ow'd
I paid, and hofpitable gifts bestow'd;
To him feven talents of pure ore I told,
Twelve cloaks, twelve vefts, twelve tunics ftiff
with gold;

A bowl, that rich with polifh'd filver flames;
And, skill'd with female works, four lovely dames.
At this the father, with a father's fears
- (His venerable eyes bedimm'd with tears),
This is the land; but, ah! thy gifts are loft,
For godlefs men, and rude, poffefs the coaft:
Sunk is the glory of this once-fam'd shore !
Thy ancient friend, O ftranger, is no more!
Full recompence thy bounty elfe had borne;
For ev'ry good man yields a juft return:
So civil rights demand; and who begins
The track of friendship, not purfuing, fins.

But tell me, ftranger, be the truth confeft,
What years have circled fince thou faw'ft that
That hapless gueft, alas! for ever gone! [gucft?
Wretch that he was! and that I am! my fon 1
If ever man to mifery was born,

'Twas his to fuffer, and 'tis mine to mourn!
Far from his friends, and from his native reign,
He lies, a prey to monsters of the main,
Or favage beafts his mangled reliques tear,
Or fcreaming vultures fcatter through the air:
Nor could his mother fun'ral unguents fhed,
Nor wail'd his father o'er th' untimely dead,
Nor his fad confort on the mournful bier
Seal'd his cold eyes, or dropp'd a tender tear!

}

But tell me who thou art, and what thy race? Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place? Or, if a merchant in purfuit of gain, What port receiv'd thy veffel from the main? Or com'ft thou fingle, or attend thy train? Then thus the fon : From Alybas I came, My palace there; Eperitus my name. Not vulgar born, from Aphidas the king. Of Polyphemon's royal line I fpring. Some adverfe dæmon from Sicania bore Our wand'ring courfe, and drove us on your fhore: Far from the town, an unfrequented bay Receiv'd our weary veffel from the fea. Five years have circled fince these eyes purfued Ulyffes parting through the fable flood; Profp'rous he fail'd, with dexter auguries, And all the wing'd good omens of the fkies. Well hop'd we then to meet on this fair fhore, Whom Heaven, alas! decreed to meet no more,

Quick thro' the father's heart these accents ran; Grief feiz'd at once, and wrapp'd up all the man; Deep from his foul he figh'd, and forrowing spread A cloud of afhes on his hoary head. Trembling with agonics of ftrong delight Stood the great fon, heart-wounded with the fight: He ran, he fciz'd him with a strict embrace, With thousand kiffes wand'ring o'er his face. I, I am he; O father! rife, behold Thy fon, with twenty winters now grown old; Thy fon, fo long defir'd, fo long detain'd, Reftor'd and breathing in his native land: The floods of forrow, O my fire, restrain! The vengeance is complete; the fuitor-train, Stretch'd in our palace, by thefe hands lie flain.

Amaz'd Laertes: "Give fome certain fign, "If fuch thou art, to manifeft thee mine." Lo here the wound, he cries, receiv'd of yore, The fear indented by the tufky boar, When by thyfelf and by Anticlea fent, To old Autolychus's realms I went. Yet by another fign thy offspring know; The feveral trees you gave me long ago, While, yet a child, thefe fields I lov'd to trace, And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace: To ev'ry plant in order as we came, Well pleas'd you told its nature and its name, Whate'er my childish fancy afk'd, bestow'd; Twelve pear-trees bowing with their pendant load,

And ten, that red with blufhing apples glow'd;. Full

Full fifty purple figs; and many a row
Of varicus vines that then began to blow,
A future vintage! when the hours produce
Their latent buds, and Sol exhales the juice.

Smit with the figns which all his doubts explain,

His heart within him melts; his knees fuftain
Their feeble weight no more; his arms alone
Support him, round the lov'd Ulyffes thrown;
He faints, he finks, with mighty joys oppreft.
Ulyffes clafps him to his eager breast.
Soon as returning life regains its feat,
And his breath lengthens, and his pulfes beat;
Yes, I believe, he cries, almighty Jove!
Heaven rules us yet, and gods there are above.

FAIRFAX's TASSO.

$37. Defcription of Armida's wonderful Parrot. WITH party-colour'd plumes, and purple bill, A wondrous bird among the rest there flew,

That in plain speech fung love-lays loud and

fhrill;

Here Leden was like human language true ;
So much the talk'd, and with fuch wit and skill,
That ftrange it feemed, how much good the
knew:

Her feather'd fellows all ftood hush to hear;
Dumb was the wind, the waters filent were.

The gentle budding rofe, quoth fhe, behold,
That firft fcant peeping forth with virgin beams,
Half ope, half fhut, her beauties doth unfold
In its fair leaves, and, lefs feen, fairer feems,
And after spreads them forth more broad and
bold,

$35. Defeription of the Vision conjured up by Then languisheth, and dies in laft extremes;

A

Alecto.

MURDER'D body huge befide him stood,
Of head and right-hand both but lately
froil'd;

The left-hand bore the head, whofe vifage good
Both pale and wan, with duft and gore defil'd,
Yet fpake, tho' dead; with thofe fad words the

blood

Forth at his lips in huge abundance boil'd

Fly, Argillan, from this falfe camp fly far,
Whofe guide a traitor, captains murd rers are.

36. Image of Armida and Attendants, enraged at Rinaldo's bewing down the Myrtle to diffolve the Charm.

HE lift his brand; nor car'd, tho' oft fhe pray'd,

And the her form to other thape did change;
Such monfters huge, when men in dieams are laid,
Oft in their idle fancies roame and range:
Her body fwell'd, her face obfcure was made;
Vanith'd her garments rich, and veftures strange;
A giantess before him high the stands,

Arm'd, like Briarcus, with an hundred hands:
With fifty fwords, and fifty targets bright,
She threaten'd death, the roar'd, fhe cried, and
fought;

Each other nymph, in armour likewife dight,
A Cyclops great became; he fear'd them nought,
But on the myrtle finote with all his might,
Which groan'd, like living fouls to death nigh
brought;

The fky feem'd Pluto's court, the air feem'd hell,
Therein fuch monfters roar, fuch fpirits yell.
Lighten'd the heaven above, the earth below
Roared aloud that thunder'd, and this fhook :
Blufter'd the tempefts ftrong: the whirlwinds blow;
The bitter ftorm drove hail-tones in his look;
But yet his arm grew neither weak nor flow,
Tilllow to earth the wounded tree down bended:
Nor of that fury heed or care he took,

Then fled the fpirits all, the charms all ended.

Nor fecins the fame that decked bed and bow'ṛ
Of many a lady late and paramour.
So, in the paffing of a day, doth pafs
The bud and bloffom of the life of man,
Nor ere doth flourish more; but, like the grass
Cut down, becometh wither'd, pale, and wan:
Oh, gather then the rofe, while time thou haft;
Short is the day, done when it fcant began;

Gather the rofe of Love, while yet thou mayft,
Loving be lov'd, embracing be embrac'd.
She ceas'd; and, as approving all the spoke,
The choir of birds their heavenly tune renew;
The turtles figh'd, and fighs with kiffes broke;
The fowls to thades unfeen by pairs withdrew:
It feem'd, the laurel chafte, and ftubborn oak,

And all the gentle trees on earth that grew,

It feem'd, the land, the fea, and heaven above, All breath'd out fancy fweet, and figh'd out love.

GLOVER'S LEONIDAS.

§ 38. Leonidas's Addrefs to his Countrymen,

Remains unthaken.

-He alone

Rifing he difplays
His godlike prefence. Dignity and grace
Adorn his frame, and manly beauty, join'd
With ftrength Herculoan. On his afpect thines
Sublimeft virtue, and defire of fame,
The inextinguishable fpark, which fires
Where juftice gives the laurel; in his eye
The fouls of patriots; while his brow fupports
Undaunted valour, and contempt of death.
Serene he role, and thus addrefs'd the throng:

Why this aftonishment on ev'ry face,
Ye men of Sparta? Does the name of death
Create this fear and wonder? O my friends!
Why do we labour thro' the arduous paths
Which lead to virtue Fruitles were the toil,
Above the reach of human feet were plac'd

* Rinaldo.

The

The diftant fummit, if the fear of death
Could intercept cur paffage. But in vain
His blackeft frowns and terrors he affumes
To shake the firmness of the mind, which knows
That, wanting virtue, life is pain and woe;
That, wanting liberty, ev'n virtue mourns,
And looks around for happinefs in vain.
Then fpeak, O Sparta, and demand my life;
My heart exulting, anfwers to thy call,
And fmiles on glorious fate. To live with fame
The gods allow to many; but to die
With equal luftre, is a blefling Heaven
Selects from all the choiceft boons of fate,
And with a sparing hand on few bestows.

§ 39. Leonidas's Answer to the Perfian Ambaf

fador.

RETURN to Xerxes; tell him on this rock
The Grecians, faithful to their poft, await
His chofen myriads; tell him, thou haft feen
How far the luft of empire is below

A free-born mind: and tell him, to behold
A tyrant humbled, and by virtuous death
To feal my country's freedom, is a good
Surpaffing all his boasted pow'r can give.

To forrow and to fhame; for thou must weep
With Lacedæmon, muft with her fustain
Thy painful portion of oppreffion's weight.
Thy fons behold now worthy of their names,
And Spartan birth. Their growing bloom must pine
In thame and bondage, and their youthful hearts
Beat at the found of liberty no more.

On their own virtue, and their father's fame,
When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd,
Before the world illuftrious fhall they rife,
Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.

Here paus'd the patriot. With religious awe.
Grief heard the voice of virtue. No complaint
The folemn filence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow:
Ceas'd for a moment; foon again to ftream.
His brave companions of the war demand
For now, in arms before the palace rang'd,
Their leader's prefence; then her griefs renew'd,
Too great for utt'rance, intercept her fights,
And freeze each accent on her fault'ring tongue.
In fpecchlefs anguish on the hero's breaft
She finks. On ev'ry fide his children prefs,
Hang on his knees, and kifs his honour'd hand.
His foul no longer ftruggles to confine

Its ftrong compunction. Down the hero's check,
Down flows the manly forrow. Great in woe,
Amid his children, who inclofe him round,
He ftands indulging tendernefs and love

40. Pathetic Farewel of Leonidas to his Wife In graceful tears, when thus, with lifted eyes,

and Family.

I SEE, I feel thy anguish, nor my foul

Has ever known the prevalence of love,
E'er prov'd a father's fondnefs, as this hour;
Nor, when most ardent to affert my fame,
Was once my heart infenfible to thee.
How had it ftain'd the honours of my name
To hesitate a moment, and fufpend
My country's fate, till fhameful life preferr'd
By my inglorious colleague left no choice,
But what in me were infamy to fhun,
Not virtue to accept! Then deem no more
That, of my love regardless, or thy tears,
I hafte uncall'd to death. The voice of fate,
The gods, my fame, my country, bid me bleed.
Othou dear mourner! wherefore fireams afresh
That flood of woe? Why heayes with fighs re-
new'd

That tender breaft? Leonidas muft fall.
Alas! far heavier mifery impends
O'er thee and thefe, if foften'd by thy tears
I thamefully refufe to vield that breath,
Which justice, glory, liberty, and Heaven
Claim for my country, for my fons, and thee.
Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect
On my paternal fondnefs. Has my heart
E'er known a pause of love, or pious care?
Now fhall that care, that tenderness, be prov'd
Moft warm and faithful. When thy hufband dies
For Lacedæmon's fafety, thou wilt fhare,
Thou and thy children, the diffufive good.
Should I, thus fingled from the rest of men,
Alone entrusted by th' immortal gods
With pow'r to fave a people, fhould my foul
Defert that facred caule, thee too I yield

peace.

Addrefs'd to Heaven: Thou ever-living Pow'r,
Look down propitious, fire of gods and men!
And to this faithful woman, whofe defert
May claim thy favour, grant the hours of
And thou, my great forefather, fon of Jove,
O Hercules, neglect not thefe thy race!
But fince that fpirit I from thee derive,
Now bears me from them to refiftless fate,
Do thou fupport their virtue! Be they taught,
Like thee, with glorious labour life to grace,
And from their father let them learn to die

§ 41. Characters of Teribazus and Ariana. AMID the van of Perfia was a youth

Nor

Nam'd Teribazus, not for golden ftores,
Not for wide paftures travers'd o'er with herds,
With bleating thoufands, or with bounding steeds,
yet for pow'r, nor fplendid honours, fam'd.
Rich was his mind in ev'ry art divine,
And thro' the paths of fcience had he walk'd
The votary of wifdom. In the years
When tender down invefts the ruddy check,
He with the Magi turn'd the hallow'd page
Of Zoroafter; then his tow'ring foul
High on the plumes of contemplation foar'd,
And from the lofty Babylonian fane
With learn'd Chaldæans trac'd the mystic spheres
There number'd o'er the vivid fires that gleam
Upon the dusky bofom of the night.
Nor on the fands of Ganges were unheard
The Indian fages from fequefter'd bow`rs,
While, as attention wonder'd, they difclos'd
The pow'rs of nature; whether in the woods,

The

The fruitful glebe or flow'r, or healing plant,
The limpid waters, or the ambient air,
Or in the purer element of fire.

The fertile plains where great Seforis reign'd,
Myfterious Egypt, next the youth furvey'd,
From Elephantis, where impetuous Nile
Precipitates his waters to the fea,

Which far below receives the fevenfold stream.
Thence o'er th' Ionic coaft he ftray'd; nor pafs'd
Miletus by, which once enraptur'd heard
The tongue of Thales; nor Prienc's walls,
Where wildoin dwelt with Bias; nor the feat
Of Pittacus, along the Lefbian fhore.
Here too melodious numbers charm'd his cars,
Which flow'd from Orpheus, and Mufæus old,
And thee, O father of immortal verfe!
Mæonides, whofe ftrains thro' ev'ry age
Time with his own eternal lip fhall fing.
Back to his native Sufa then he turn'd
His wand'ring fteps. His merit foon was dear
To Hyperanthes, generous and good;
And Ariana, from Darius fprung
With Hyperanthes, of th' imperial race
Which rul'd th' extent of Afia, in difdain
Of all her greatnefs oft, an humble car
To him would bend, and liften to his voice.
Her charms, her mind, her virtue he explor'd
Admiring. Soon was admiration chang'd
To love, nor lov'd he fooner than despair'd.
But unreveal'd and filent was his pain;
Nor yet in folitary fhades he roain'd,
Nor thunn'd refort: but o'er his forrows caft
A fickly dawn of gladnefs, and in fmiles
Conceal'd his anguifh; while the fecret flame
Rag'd in his bofom, and its peace confum'd.

When thus, with accents mufically sweet,
A tender voice his wond'ring car allur'd:

O gen'rous Grecian, liften to the pray'r
Of one diftrefs'd! whom grief alone hath led
In this dark hour to thefe victorious tents,
A wretched woman, innocent of fraud.

The Greek defcending thro' th' unfolded gates
Upheld a flaming brand. One first appear'd
In fervile garb attir'd; but near his fide
A woman graceful and majeftic ftood;
Not with an aspect rivalling the pow'r
Of fatal Helen, or the wanton charms
Of love's foft queen; but fuch as far excell'd
Whate'er the lily blending with the rose
Paints on the cheek of beauty, foon to fade;
Such as exprefs'd a mind which wisdom rul d,
And fweetnefs temper'd, virtue's pureft light
Illumining the countenance divine;

Yet could not foothe remorfelefs fate, nor teach
Malignant fortune to revere the good;
Which oft with anguifh rends the fpotless heart,
And oft affociates wifdom with defpair.
In courteous phrafe began the chief humane:
Exalted fair, who thus adorn ft the night,
Forbear to blame the vigilance of war,
And to the laws of rigid Mars impute,
That I thus long unwilling have delay'd
Before the great Leonidas to place
This your apparent dignity and worth.

He ipake, and gently to the lofty tent
Of Sparta's king the lovely ftranger guides.
At Agis' fummons, with a mantle broad
His mighty limbs Leonidas infolds,

And quits his couch. In wonder he furveys
Th'illuftrious virgin, whom his prefence aw'd:
Her eye fubmiflive to the ground inclin'd
With vereration of the god-like man.

§42. Ariana and Polydorus come by Night into But foon his voice her anxious dread dispell'd,

the Perfian Camp.

IN fable pomp, with all her starry train,

The night affum'd her throne. Recall'd from

war,

Her long-protracted labours Greece forgets,
Diffolv'd in filent fiumber; all but thofe,
Who watch'd th' uncertain perils of the dark,
An hundred warriors: Agis was their chief.
High on the wall intent the hero fat,
As o'er the furface of the tranquil main
Along its undulating breaft the wind
The various din of Afia's hoft convey'd,
In one deep murmur fwelling in his ear:
When, by the found of footsteps down the pafs
Alarm'd, he calls aloud: What feet are thofe,
Which beat the echoing pavement of the rock?
With speed reply, nor tempt your inftant fate.

He faid, and thus return'd a voice unknown:
Not with the feet of enemies we come,
But crave admittance with a friendly tongue.
The Spartan anfwers: Thro' the midnight fhade
What purpose draws your wand'ring fteps abroad?
To whom the ftranger: We are friends to Greece,
And to the presence of the Spartan king
Admiffion we implore. The cautious chief
Of Lacedemon hefitates again;

Benevolent and hofpitable thus:

Thy form alone, thus amiable and great, Thy mind delineates, and from all commands Supreme regard. Relate, thou noble dame, By what relentlefs deftiny compell'd, Thy tender feet the paths of darkness tread : Rehearfe th' afflictions whence thy virtue mourns.

On her wan check a fudden blush arofe,
Like day's firft dawn upon the twilight pale,
And, wrapt in grief, thefe words a paffage
broke:

If to be moft unhappy, and to know
That hope is irrecoverably fled;
If to be great and wretched, may deferve
Commiferation from the good, behold,
Thou glorious leader of unconquer'd bands,
Behold, defcended from Darius' loins,
Th' afflicted Ariana, and my pray'r
Accept with pity, nor my tears difdain!
First, that I lov'd the beft of human race,
By nature's hand with ev'ry virtue form'd,
Heroic, wife, adorn'd with ev'ry art,
Of fhame unconscious does my heart reveal.
This day in Grecian arms confpicuous clad
He fought, he fell. A paffion long conceal'd
For me, alas! within my brother's arms

His dying breath refigning, he difclos'd.

-Oh I will stay my forrows! will forbid My eyes to ftream before thee, and my heart, Thus full of anguish, will from fighs reftrain! For why fhould thy humanity be griev'd With my diftrefs, and learn from me to mourn The lot of nature, doom'd to care and pain! Hear then, O king, and grant my fole request, To feek his body in the heaps of flain.

Thus to the Spartan fued the regal maid, Refembling Ceres in majeftic woe, When fupplicant at Jove's refplendent throne, From dreary Pluto, and th'infernal gloom, Her lov'd and loft Proferpina the fought. Fix'd on the weeping queen with ftedfaft eyes, Laconia's chief these tender thoughts recall'd : Such are thy forrows, O for ever dear! Who now at Lacedæmon doft deplore My everlasting abfence! then inclin'd His head, and figh'd; nor yet forgot to charge His friend, the gentle Agis, thro' the ftraits The Perfian princefs to attend and aid. With careful steps they seek her lover's corfe. The Greeks remember'd, where by fate reprefs'd His arm first ceas'd to mow their legions down; And from beneath a mafs of Perfian flain Soon drew the hero, by his armour known. To Agis' high pavilion they refort. Now, Ariana, what tranfcending pangs Thy foul involv'd! what horror clafp'd thy heart! But love grew mightieft; and her beauteous limbs

On the cold breaft of Teribazus threw

The grief-diftracted maid. The clotted gore
Deform'd her fnowy bofom. O'er his wounds
Loofe flow'd her hair, and bubbling from her eyes
Impetuous forrow lav'd the purple clay,
When forth in groans her lamentations broke:
O torn for ever from my weeping eyes!
Thou, who defpairing to obtain her heart,
Who then moft lov'd thee, didft untimely yield
Thy life to fate's inevitable dart
For her, who now in agony unfolds
Her tender bofom, and repeats her vows
To thy deaf ear, who fondly to her own
Now clafps thy brcaft infenfible and cold.
Alas! do thofe unmoving ghaftly orbs
Perceive my gufhing anguith? Does that heart,
Which death's inanimating hand hath chill'd,
Share in my fuffrings, and return my fighs?
-O bitter unfurmountable diftrefs!
Lo! on thy breaft is Ariana bow'd,
Hangs o'er thy face, unites her check to thine,
Not now to liften with enchanted ears
To thy perfuafive eloquence, no more
Charm'd with the wifdom of thy copious mind!

She could no more: invincible despair
Supprefs'd her utt'rance. As a marble form
Fix'd on the folemn fepulchre, unmov'd,
O'er fome dead hero, whom his country lov'd,
Bends down the head with imitated woe:
So paus'd the princefs o'er the breathless clay,
Intranc'd in forrow. On the dreary wound,
Where Dithyrambus' fword was deepest plung'd,
Mute for a pace and motionlefs fhe gaz'd;

Then with a lock unchang'd, nor trembling hand,
Drew forth a poniard, which her garment veil'd,
And sheathing in her heart th' abhorred steel,
On her flain lover filent finks in death.

SPENSER'S FAIRY QUEEN.
$43. Duefa weeping over her Enemy, compared
to a Crocodile, and a Defcription of Night.
AS when a weary traveller, that ftrays
By muddy thore of broad feven-mouthed Nile,
Unwecting of the perilous wand'ring ways,
Deth meet a cruel crafty crocodile,
Which in falfe grief hiding his harmful guile,
Doth weep full fore, and theddeth tender tears:
The foolish man, that pities all this while
His mournful plight, is fwallow'd up unwares,
Forgetful of his own, that minds another's cares.
So wept Duffa until even-tide,

That fining lamps in Jove's high houfe were light:
Then forth the rofe, ne longer would abide.
But comes unto the place where th' heathen knight
Lay cover'd with enchanted cloud all day:
In flumb'ring fwoon nigh void of vital fpright,
Whom when the found, as the him left in plight
To wail his woful cafe, fhe would not stay,
But to the caftern coaft of heaven inakes fpeedy way,
Where griefly Night, with vilage deadly fad,
That Pho bus cheerful face durft never view,
And in a foul black pitchy mantle clad,
She finds forth-coming from her darkfoine mew,
Where the all day did hide her hated hue:
Before the door her hon chariot ftcod,
Aiready harnetled for journcy new;
And cole-black feeds y born of hellish brood,
That on their rufty bits did champ as they were
wood.

[blocks in formation]

$44. Defcription of Lucifera's Palace. Stately palace built of fquared brick, Which cunningly was without mortar laid, Whofe walls were high, but nothing ftrong, nor And golden foil all over them difplay'd; [thick, That pureft fky with brightnefs they dismay'd:

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