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7 to whom the secret flame Of midnight torches burns ; mysterious dame, That ne'
er art called, but when the dragon womb Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest
gloom, And makes one blot of all the air ; Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, Wherein ...
But where they are, and why they came not back, Is now the labour of my
thoughts ; 'tis likeliest They had engaged their wandering steps too far ; And
envious darkness, ere they could return, Had stole them from me ; else, O
thievish Night 18 ...
This is the place, as well as I may guess, Whence even now the tumult of loud
mirth Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear ; Yet nought but single darkness do
I find. What might this be ? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory,
... that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden
residence : How sweetly do they float upon the wings Of silence, through the
empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it
What chance, good lady, hath bereft you thus ? LADY. Dim darkness, and this
leafy labyrinth. COMUS. Could that divide you from near-ushering guides ? They
left me weary on a grassy turf. COMUS. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why ?
What people are saying - Write a review
I much prefer John Kinsella's updated version 'A Dialogic Mask' which, rather engagingly, includes John Milton's original in a beautifully produced hardback. Comus is available from Arc Publications.