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L'ALLEGRO.

jltNCE loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn [holy,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unFind out tome uncouth cell,

Where brooding Darkness spreads her jealous And the night raven sings; [wings,

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

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n, yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mjrth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two sister Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sages sing)
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,
Pill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.
Haste thee Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest 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 sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides,
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe,
And in thy right'hand lead with thee,
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honor due,
Mirth admit me of thy crew
To live with her, and live with thee
In unreproved pleasures free;
To bear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull Night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled'Dawn doth rise;
Then to come in spite of Sorrow,
And at my window bid good morrow,
Through the sweet-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 the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before:
Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn,
Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring Morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Some time walking not unseen
Bv hedge-row elms, on hillocks green.
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries flight,
While the plowman near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his sithe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilst the landskip round it measures,
Russet lawns and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray,
Mountains on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often rest,
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,.
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The Cynosure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
Are at their savory dinner set
Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses ,

And then in haste he* bower she leaves,

With Thesiylis to bind the sheaves;

Or if the earlier season lead

To the :ann'd haycock in the mead.

Sometimes with secure delight

The upland hamlets will invite,

When the merry bells ring round,

And the jocund rebees sound

To many a youth and many a maid,

Dancing in the chequer'd shade;

And young and old come forth to play

On a sunshine holiday,

Till the live-long day-light fail;

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,

With stories told of many a feat,

How faery Map the junkets eat,

She was pincht, and pull'd she said,

And he by frier's lanthorn led

Tells how the drudging goblin swet,

To earn his cream-bowl duly set,

When one night, ere glimpse of morn,

His shadowy flale hath thresh'd the corn

That ten day-lab'rers could not end;

Then lies him down the lubber fiend,

And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength,

And crop-full out of doors he flings,

Ere the first cock his matin rings.

Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,

fiv whisp'iii.g winds soon lull's! asleep.

Towred cities please us then,

And the busy hum of men,

Where throngs of knights and barons bold

In weeds of Peace, high triumphs hold, .

With store of ladies whose bright eyes

Rain influence, and judge the prize

Of wit, or arms, while both contend

To win her grace whom all commend.

There let Hymen oft appear

In saffron robe, with taper clear,

And Pomp, and feast, and Revelry,

Wnh Mask and antique Pageantry,

Such sights as youthful poets dream,

On summer eves by haunted stream.

Then to the well trod stage anon,

If Jonson's learned sock be on,

Or sweetest Shakespeare Fancy's child,

Warble his native wood-notes wild.

And ever against eating cares,

Lap me in soft Lydian airs,

Married to immortal Verse,

Such as the meeting soul may pierce

In notes with many a winding bout

Of linked sweetness long drawn out,

With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,

The melting voice thro' mazes running,

Untwisting all the chains that ty

The hidden soul of harmony;

That Orpheus' self may heave his head

From golden slumber on a bed

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