Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk, though he be beneath the watery floor; And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, A Cornish giant. + Mount St. Michael; not far from the Land's End in Cornwall, whence at low water it is accessible. The guarded mount, says Mr. Warton, is simply the fortified mount; and the great vision is the famous apparition of St. Michael, who is said to have appeared on the top of the mount, and to have directed a church to be built there. 1 Or Numantia; a town of Old Castile, once highly celebrated in the Spanish history. And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the bless'd kingdoms meek of joy and love. That sing, and, singing, in their glory move, Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, DRAWN BY RICHARD WESTALL, RA ENGRAVED BY E.I PORTBURY, PUBLISHED BY JOHN SHARPE, LONDON JULY 1, 1827 L'ALLEGRO. HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, There under ebon shades, and low brow'd rocks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. The frolic wind that breathes the spring, As he met her once a Maying; And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, |