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Over some wide-water'd shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar;
Or if the air will not permit,
Some still removed place will fit,

Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom;

Far from all resort of mirth,

Save the cricket on the hearth,

Or the bellman's drowsy charm,

To bless the doors from nightly harm:
Or let my lamp at midnight hour
Be seen in some high lonely tow'r,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere
The spirit of Plato, to unfold

What worlds, or what vast regions hold
The immortal mind, that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook:
And of those Demons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With planet, or with element.
Sometime let gorgeous tragedy

In sceptred pall come sweeping by,

75 wide-water'd] Constable's Son. Ellis's Spec. ii. p. 305. 'Or like the echo of a passing bell,

Which, sounding on the water, seems to howl.'

98 Sceptred] Miltoni Eleg. i. 37.

'Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragoedia sceptrum

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Quassat.'

Warton.

Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine,

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 bid 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

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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.

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Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,

Till civil-suited morn appear,

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

With the Attic boy to hunt,

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. 2.

[blocks in formation]

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

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But kerchef'd in a comely cloud,

While rocking winds are piping loud,
Or usher'd with a shower still,
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

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With such consort as they keep,

Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep;

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And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings in aery stream

141 eye] Son. i. 5.

'Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.'

Warton.

146 dewy] 'Liquidique potentia somni.' Val. Flac. iv. 18. 'Irriguus somnus.' Plaut. Ep. i. ii. 18. 'Dewy sleep.' Henry More's Poems, p. 263.

148 Wave Consult Warton's note on the structure of these lines.

Of lively portraiture display'd,
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 antique 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.

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

ARCADES.

Part of an Entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Derby, at Harefield, by some noble persons of her family; who appear on the scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat of state, with this song.

SONG I.

Look, Nymphs and Shepherds, look,
What sudden blaze of majesty

Is that which we from hence descry,
Too divine to be mistook;

This, this is she

To whom our vows and wishes bend;
Here our solemn search hath end.

Fame, that her high worth to raise,
Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse,
We may justly now accuse
Of detraction from her praise;
Less than half we find express'd,
Envy bid conceal the rest.

5 This] Jonson's Ent. at Altrope, 1603.

'This is shee,

This is shee,

In whose world of grace,' &c. Warton.

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