In narrow Mazes oft it seem'd to meet,

And look'd, as lightly prefs'd by Fairy Feet.
Wandring I walk'd alone, for still methought
To some strangeEnd fo ftrange aPath was wrought:
At last it led me where an Arbour stood,

The facred Receptacle of the Wood:

This Place unmark'd tho' oft I walk'd the Green,
In all my Progress I had never seen:

And seiz'd at once with Wonder and Delight,
Gaz'd all around me,new to the transporting Sight.
'Twas bench'd with Turf, and goodly to be seen,
The thick young Grafs arofe in fresher Green:
The Mound was newly made, no Sight could pafs
Betwixt the nice Partitions of the Grass;
The well-united Sods fo closely lay;

And all around the Shades defended it from Day.
For Sycamours with Eglantine were spread,
A Hedge about the Sides, a Covering over Head.
And fo the fragrant Brier was wove between,

TheSycamour and Flow'rs were mix'd withGreen, That Nature feem'd to vary the Delight;

And fatisfy'd at once the Smell and Sight.

The Master Workman of the Bow'r was known
Through Fairy-Lands, and built for Oberon ;
Who twining Leaves with fuch Proportion drew,
They rose by Measure, and by Rule they grew:
No mortal Tongue can half the Beauty tell;

For none but Hands divine could work so well.
Both Roof and Sides were like a Parlour made,
A foft Recefs, and a cool Summer shade;
The Hedge was fet fo thick, no foreign Eye
The Perfons plac'd within it could espy:
But all that pass'd without with Ease was seen,
As if nor Fence nor Tree was plac'd between.
'Twas border'd with a Field; and fome was plain
With Grafs; and fome was fow'd with rifing Grain.
That (now the Dew with Spangles deck'd the
Ground:)

A fweeter fpot of Earth was never found.
I look'd, and look'd, and ftill with new Delight;
Such Joy my Soul, fuch Pleafures fill'd my Sight:
And the fresh Eglantine exhal'd a Breath;
Whofe Odours were of Pow'r to raise from Death:
Nor fullen Discontent, nor anxious Care,
Ev'n tho' brought thither, could inhabit there:

But thence they fled as from their mortal Foe;

'For this sweet Place cou'd only Pleasure know. Thus, as I mus'd, I caft afide my Eye,

And faw a Medlar-Tree was planted nigh;
The spreading Branches made a goodly Show,
And full of opening Blooms was ev'ry Bough:
A Goldfinch there I saw with gawdy Pride
Of painted Plumes, that hopp'd from fide to fide,
Still pecking as fhe pass'd; and still she drew
TheSweets from ev'ry Flow'r,and fuck'd the Dew:
Suffic'd at length, fhe warbled in her Throat,
And tun'd her Voice to many a merry Note,
But indistinct, and neither sweet nor clear,
Yet fuch as footh'd my Soul, and pleas'd my Ear.
Her fhort Performance was no fooner try'd,
When the I fought, the Nightingale, reply'd :
So fweet, fo fhrill, fo varioufly fhe fung,
That the Grove eccho'd, and the Valleys rung:
And I fo ravish'd with her heav'nly Note

I ftood intranc'd, and had no room for Thought.
But all o'er-pouer'd with Extafie of Bliss,
Was in a pleasing Dream of Paradife;

At length I wak'd; and looking round the Bow'r
Search'd ev'ry Tree, and pry'd on ev'ry Flow'r,
If any where by chance I might efpy
The rural Poet of the Melody:

For ftill methought the fung not far away;
At laft I found her on a Laurel Spray,
Close by my Side fhe fate, and fair in Sight,
Full in a Line, against her opposite;

Where flood with Eglantine the Lawrel twin'd:
And both their native Sweets were well conjoin'd.
On the green Bank I fate, and liften'd long;
(Sitting was more convenient for the Song!)
Nor till her Lay was ended could I move,
But wish'd to dwell for ever in the Grove.
Only methought the Time too fwiftly pass'd,
And ev'ry Note I fear'd wou'd be the last.
My Sight, and Smell, and Hearing were employ'd,
And all three Senses in full Gust enjoy'd.
And what alone did all the reft surpass,
The sweet Poffeffion of the Fairy Place;
Single, and confcious to my Self alone,
Of Pleafures to th' excluded World unknown.

Pleasures which no where else were to be found,

And all Elyfium in a fpot of Ground.

Thus while I fate intent to see and hear,
And drew Perfumes of more than vital Air,
All fuddenly I heard th'approaching found
Of vocal Musick, on th'enchanted Ground :
An Host of Saints it feem'd, fo full the Quire;
As if the Bless'd above did all conspire,

To join their Voices, and neglect the Lyre.
At length there iffu'd from the Grove behind
A fair Affembly of the Female Kind:

A Train lefs fair, as ancient Fathers tell,
Seduc'd the Sons of Heaven to rebel.

I pass their Form, and ev'ry charming Grace,
Lefs than an Angel wou'd their Worth debase:
But their Attire like Liveries of a kind,
All rich and rare is fresh within my Mind.'"
In Velvet white as Snow the Troop was gown'd,
The Seams with sparkling Emeralds fet around:
Their Hoods and Sleeves the fame; and purfled o'er
With Diamonds, Pearls, and all the shining ftore
Of Eastern Pomp: Their long defcending Train
With Rubies edg'd, and Saphires, fwept the Plain: