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1. SONG. While rocking winds are piping loud, Or ushcr'd with a shower till,

LOOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look,

What sudden blaze of majesty When the guft hath blown his fill,

Is that which we from hence descry, Ending on the russling leaves,

Too divine to be mistook : With minute drops from off the eaves. 130

This, this is the
And when the sun begins to fling

To whom our vows and wishes bend;
His fiaring beams, me, Goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,

Here our folemn search hath end.
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves

Fame, that her high worth to raise, of pine, or monumental oak,


Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse, Where the rude ax with heaved stroke

We may justly now accuse Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,

Of detraction from her praise ; Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.

Less than half we find exprest, There in close covert by some brook,

Envy bid conceal the rest. Where no profaner eye may look,


Mark what radiant state she spreads, Hide me from day's garish eye,

In circle round her shining throne,

15 While the bee with honied thigh,

Shooting her beams like lilver threads : That at her flowery work doch sing,

This, this is she alone, And the waters murmuring,

Sitting like a Goddess bright, With such concert as they keep,

145 In the center of her light. Entice the dewy-feather'd fleep; And let some strange mysterious dream

Might she the wife Latona be, Wave at his wings in aery stream

Or the towered Cybele, Of lively portraiture display'd,

Mother of a hundred Gods; Softly on my eye-lids laid.

150 Juno dares not give her odds; And as I wake, sweet music brcathe

Who had thought this clime had held Above, about, or underneath,

A deity so unparalleld?

25 Sent by some Spirit to mortals good,

As tbey come forward, tbe GENIU3 of it. Wood at Or th' unseen Genius of the wood.

pears, and, turning toward them, speaks. But let my duc feet never fail

155 To walk the studious cloyster's pale,

GEN. STAY, gentle Swains, for though in this And love the high en bowed roof,

disguise, With antic pillars mally proof,

I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes; And storied windows richly dight,

Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung Cafting a dim religious light.


Of tha: renowned flood, so often fung, There let the pealing organ blow,

Divine Alpheus, who by secret fluce

30 To the fall-voic'd quire below,

Stole under leas to meet his Arethuse; In service high, and anthems clear,

And ye, the breathing rofes of the wood, As may with sweetnets, through mine car,

Fair lilver-bulkin'd Nymphs as great and good, Diffolve me into extafics,


I know this quest of yours, and free intent And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.

Was all in honor and devotion meant 35 And may at last my weary age

To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, Find out the peaceful hermitage,

Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, The hairy gown and molly call,

And with all helpful service will comply Where I may fit and rightly spell


To further this night's glad folenoity ; Of every star that Heav'n doth shew,

And lead you where ye may more near behold 40 And every herb that sips the dew :

What shallow-searching Fane hath left untold; Till old experience do attain

Which I full oft amidit these fades alone To fumething like prophetic strain.

Have fat to wonder at, and gaze upon : These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 173

For know by lot from Jove I am the Power And I with thce will choose to live.

Of this fair word, and live in oaken bower, 45

To rurfs the saplings tail, and curl the grove XV.

With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.

And all my plance ! Lave from nightly ill

Of noisome winds, and blafting vapors chill: Purt of Entertuinment presented to ibe Countess Ard from the boughs brust off the evil dew, 50

Dowager of Dorby at Harefield, by fome noble Per. And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, Jons of ber Family, wbo appear on tbc Scene in pafio. Or what the cross dire-looking planet fmites, ral Habit, moving toward the Seat of Stote, with Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. this Song:

When evening gray doth rife, I fetch my round

Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, 55 This poem is only part of an Entertainment, And early, ere the odorous breath of morn or Mosk, as it is also intitled in Milton's Magu Awakes the fiumbering leaves, or tassel'd horn fiript, the rcit probably being of a difierent na Shakes the high thicket, hafte i all about, turc, or composed by a different hand.

Number my ranks, and visit every sprout

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ET once ,
But eise in deep of night, when drowsiness 61
Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I

I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
To the celestial Syrens' harmony,

And with forc'd fingers rude That fit upon the nine infolded (pheres,

Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 And ling to those that hold the vital shears, 65 Bilter constraint, and fad occasion dear, And turn the adamantin spindle round,

Compels me to disturb your seaton due : On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Such sweet compulsion doch in music lic,

Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer :
To lull the daughters of Necessity,

Who would not fing for Lycidas ? he knew
And keep uniteddy Nature to her law, 70 Himself to fing, and build the lofty rhyme.
And the low world in measur'd motion draw He must not flote upou his watry bier
After the hcavenly tune, which none can hear Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
of human mold with gross unpurged ear:

Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Aod yet such music worthielt were to blaze

Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,

15 The peerless highth of her immortal praise, 75 That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring, Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string. If my inferior hand or voice could hit

Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse, inimitable founds; yet, as we go,

So may fome gentle Muse
Whate'er the skill of lefler Geds can show, With lucky words favor my destin'd urn,
I will aday, her worth to celebrate,

80 And as he passes turn,
And so attend ye toward her glittering state; And hid fair peace be to my sable froud.
Where you may all that are of noble Item

For we were nurlt upon the self-fame hill, approach and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill.

Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 25

Under the opening eye-lids of the moro, O’ER the smooth enamel'd green,

We drove afield, and both together heard Where no print of Itep hath been,


What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn, Follow me as I sing,

Battening our fucks with the fresh dews of night And touch the warbled fring,

Oft till the star that rose, at evening, bright, 30 Under the shady roof

Tow’ard Heav'n's descent had flop'd his wettering of branching elm ftar.proof.

wheel. Follow me,

90 Mean while the rural ditties were not mute, I will bring you where she fits,

Temper'd to the oaten flute, Clad in splendor as befits

Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with cloven heel Her deity.

From the glad sound would not be absent long, 35 Such a rural Queen

And old Damætas lov'd to hear our sung. All Arcadia hath not seen.

95 But o the heavy change, now thou art gone,

Now thou art gonc, and never must return!

'Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves NYMPHS and Shepherds, dance no more

With wild thyme and the gadding vinc o'ergrown, By sandy Ladon's lilied bauks;

And all their echocs mourn.

41 On old Lycæus or Cylene hoar

The willows, and the hazel copfes green,
Trip no more in twilight ranks;

Shall now no more be scen,

Though Erymanth your loss deplore,
A better soil shall give you thanks.

Fanning their joyous leaves to thy fost lays.
As killing as the canker to the rosu,

45 From the stony Mænalus

Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, Bring your flocks, and live with us;

Or frott to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, Here shall have greater grace, ye

When firit the white-thorn blows; To serve the Lady of this place.


Such, Lycidas, thy loss to fhepherds' ear. Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,

Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorfe less Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.


50 Such a rural Queen

Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas? All Arcadia hath not feen.

For neither were ye playing on the steep,

Where your old Bards, the famous Druids, lie,

Nor on the shaggy top of Mona Ligh,

Nor yet where Deva (preads her wisard stream : 55

Ay me! I fondly dream In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend,

Had ye been there, for what could that have done! unfortunately drown'd in bis Pallage from Gbejier

What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, on the Iriss Seas, 1637, and by occasion foretels the

The Muse herself for her inchanting ron, Ruin of our corrupted Clergy, then in tbeir bigbth.

Whom universal nature did lament, Mr. Edward King, son of Sir John King,

When by the rout that made the hideous roar, Secretary for Ireland, a fellow.collegian and inti

His goary visage down the stream was femi, mate friend of our author.

Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian fhore?



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Alas! what boots it with incessant care

Rot inwardly, and soul contagion spread : To tend the homely lighted fhepherd's trade, 65 Belides what the grim wolf with privy paw And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Daily devours apace; and nothing said, Were it not bytter done, as others use,

But that two-handed engin at the door 130 To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair?

Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is paft, Fame is the fpur that the clear spi'rit doth raise 70 That shrunk thy streams; returo, Sicilian díule, (That last infirmity of noble mind)

A call the vales, aud bid them hither cast To scorr delights, and live laborious days; Their bells, and flowrets of a thousand hues. 135 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use

2 And think to burst out into sudden blaze,

Of fades, and wanton wiuds, asd gushing brooks, Comes the blind Fury with th' abborred thears, 75 On whose fresh lap the swart itar sparely looks, And lits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, Throw hither all your quaint enamel'd cycs, 139 Phæbus reply'd, and touch'd my trembling ears; That on the green turf suck the honied fhowers, Famie is no plant that grows on mortal foil And purple all the ground with vernal Aowers. Nor in the glittering foil

Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
Set off to th' world, nor in broad rumor lies, 80 The tufted crow-toc, and pale jeffamine,
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, The white pink, and the pansy frcake with jet,
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;

The glowing violet,

145 As he pronounces lastly on each deed,

The nukk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbice, Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy need. With cowflips wan that hang the pensive head,

O fountain Arethuse, and thou honor'd flood, 85 And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Smooth-fliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds, Bid amaranthus all his beauty thed, That strain I heard was of a higher mood : And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150 But now my oat proceeds,

To furow the laureat herse where Lycid lies. And listens to the herald of the sea

For fo to interpofe a little ease, That came in Neptune's plea ;

90 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
He ask'd the waves, and ask d the fellon winds, Ay me! Whilst thee the shores, and founding fezs
What hard milhap hath doom'd this gentle iwain ? Walh far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 155
And question'd every gust of rugged winds Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
That blows from off cach beakcd promontory; Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
They knew not of his story,

Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;
And sage Hippotades their answer brings, Or whether thou, to our moift vows deng'd,
That not a blast was from his dungeon tray'd, Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus cid,
The air was calm, and on the level brinc

Where the great vision of the guarded mount
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.

Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's bold; It was that fatal and perfidious bar's

Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth: Builc in th' ecliple, and rigg'd with curses dark, And, Oye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth. That funk fo low that facred head of thine.

Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, Next Camus, reverend fire, went footing low, For Lycidas yeur sorrow is not dead, 166 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet ledge,

Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105 So finks the day-star in the ocean bed, Like to that sanguin flower inscrib'd with woe. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, Ah! who bath reft (quoth be) my dearest piedge? And tricks his beams, and with new spargles are Last came, and last did go,

Flames in the forehead of the trorning sky: 171 The pilot of the Galilean lake,

So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Two maffy ktys be bore of metals twain, Through the dear might of him that walk'd the (The golden opes, the iron shuts an ain)

waves, He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake, Where other groves and other tireams alcaz, How well could I have spar’d for thee, young swain, With nectar pure his oczy locks he laves, 175 Enow of such as for their bellies' sake

And hears the unexprellive nuptial song, Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ? 115 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. Of other care they little reckoning make, There entertain him all the Saints above, Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, In folemn troops and sweet societies, And shove away the worthy bidded guest; That fing, and finging in their glory move, 180 Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. to hoid

Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; A sheep-hook, or have learn'd ought else the least Hienceforth thou art the genius of the fore, That to the faithfal herdman's art belongs! 121 In thy large recompense, and shalt be good What recks it them? What need they? They are To all that wander in the perilous food.

185 fpce;

Thus fang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and ris, And when they lift, their lean and Aathy fongs While the still morn went out with sandals gray, Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretcbed straw; He touch'd the tender stops of various quilts, 'The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 125 With eager thought warbling his Dosic lay : But swoll'n with wind, and the rank mist they And now the sun had foretch'd out all the hills,





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BECAULEYou have thrown off your Prelate

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THAT sender youth bedew'd with liquid

Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,

Pyrrha ? for whom bind'st thou
lo wreaths thy golden hair,

On the new Forcers of Conscience under the Long Para

Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he 5
On faith and changed Gods complain, and fuas ;
Rough with black winds and storms

Unwonted shall admire!

And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy, Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,

To feizc the widow'd whore Plurality,
Who always vacant always amiable

From them whose fin ye envied, not abhorrid,
Hopes thee, of flattering gales
Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword

5 Unmindful? Hapless they

To force our confciences, that Christ set free, To whom thou untry'd seeni'ít fair. Me in my And ride us with a claslic hierarchy, vow'd

Taught ye by mere A.S. and Rotherford ? Piąure the sacred wall declares t' have hung Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent, My dank and dropping weeds

15 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, To the stern God of fea.

Must now be nam'd and printed Heretics
By shallow Edwards and Scotch what-d'ye-call :

But we do hope to find out all your tricks,

Your plots and packing, worsc than those of

Ad Pyrrbam. Ode l.

That so the Parliament Horstius ex Pyrrhe illecebris tanquam è naufragio | May with their wholesome and preventive shears

enataverat, cujus amure irretites, affirmat effe mi Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears, Jeros.

And succour our just fears, UIS multa gracilis te puer in rosa

When they shall read this clearly in your charge,

New Presbyter is but Old Pries: writ large.
Grato, Pyrrha, fub antro?
Cui flavam religas comam

* This was also first added in the edition of First added in the edition of 1673.




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The Mask was presented in 1634, and consequently in the 20th year of our author's

age. In the title-page of the first edition, printed in 1637, it is said that it was presented on Michaelmas night, and there was this motto,

“ Eheu quid volui misero mihi! floribus austrum


In this edition, and in that of Milton's Poems in 1645, there was prefixed to the

Malk the following dedication,




MY LORD, THIS poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honor from your own person in the performance, now returns again to make a final dedication of itself to you. Although not openly acknos. ledg'd by the author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely, and so much defired, that the often copying of it hath tir’d my pen to give my several friends satisfaction

, and brought me to a neceslity of producing it to the public view; and now to offer it up in all rightful devotion to those fair hopes, and rare endowments of your much promising youth, which give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live, sweet Lord, to be the honor of your name; and receive this as your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favors been long oblig'd to your most honor'd parents; and as in this representation your attendant Thyrfis, fo now in all real expresioa

Your faithful and most

humble Servant,


The attendant Spirit, afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.
COMUS, with his Crew,
The Lady.
SABRINA the Nymph.


Mr. THOMAS EGERTON, his brother,
The Lady Alice EGERTON.

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