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There, in clofe covert, by fome brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,

Hide me from day's garish eye,
While the bee, with honey'd thigh,
That at her flow'ry work doth fing,
And the waters murmuring,
With fuch confort as they keep,
Entice the dewy feather'd fleep;
And let fome ftrange myfterious dream
Wave at his wings, in aery ftream
Of lively portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid :

And, as I wake, fweet mufic breathe
Above, about, or underneath,

Sent by fome Spirit to mortals good,
Or th' unfeen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the ftudious cloysters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antic pillars maffy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Cafting 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 fweetness, through mine ear,
Diffolve me into extafies,

And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.

And may, at laft, my weary age

Find out the peaceful hermitage,

The

The hairy grown and moffy cell,
Where I may fit, and rightly spell
Of every ftar that Heaven doth 'shew,
And every herb that fips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To fomething like prophetic ftrain.
These pleasures, Melancholy give,|
And I with thee will choose to live,

L'ALLEGRO.

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L'ALLEGRO.

ENCE, loathed Melancholy,

Hof Cerberus and blackeft Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongft horrid shapes, and shrieks, and fights unholy,

Find out fome uncouth cell,

Where brooding darknefs fpreads his jealous wings, And the night raven fings;

There, under ebon fhades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But come, thou goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n yclep'd Euphrofine,
And, by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
With two fifter graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ;
Or whether (as fome fages fing)

The frolic wind that breathes the spring,

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.

Hafte

Hafte thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft, 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 fleek;
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter, holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;

And, in thy right hand, lead with thee
The mountain nymph, fweet Liberty;
And, if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,

To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free ;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And, finging, ftartle the dull night
From his watch-tow'r in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of forrow,
And, at my window, bid good morrow,
Through the fweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine:

While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or barn-door,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before:
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly roufe the flumb'ring morn,

From

From the fide of fome hoar hill,

Through the high wood echoing fhrill:
Some time walking, not unseen,
By hedge row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great fun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight,
While the plowman, near at hand,
Whiftles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every fhepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the landskip round it measures,
Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray.
Mountains, on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often reft;
Meadows, trim with daifies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Where, perhaps, fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by a cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis, met,
Are at their favory dinner fet,

Of

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