VOL. I And I must haste ere morning hour SABRINA descends, and THE LADY rises out of her seat. Spir. Virgin, daughter of Locrine, Sprung of old Anchises' line, May thy brimmèd waves for this Their full tribute never miss From a thousand petty rills, That tumble down the snowy hills: With many a tower and terrace round, With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. Come, Lady; while Heaven lends us grace, Let us fly this cursèd place, Lest the sorcerer us entice Where this night are met in state 2 E 920 930 940 950 We shall catch them at their sport, And our sudden coming there Will double all their mirth and cheer. Come, let us haste; the stars grow high, But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town, and the President's Castle: then come in Country Dancers; after them the ATTENDANT SPIRIT, with the two BROTHERS and THE LADY. Song. Spir. Back, shepherds, back! Enough your play Till next sun-shine holiday. Here be, without duck or nod, Other trippings to be trod Of lighter toes, and such court guise As Mercury did first devise With the mincing Dryades On the lawns and on the leas. This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother. Noble Lord and Lady bright, I have brought ye new delight. Three fair branches of your own. Their faith, their patience, and their truth, To triumph in victorious dance The dances ended, the SPIRIT epiloguizes. Spir. To the ocean now I fly, 960 970 Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky. All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three Iris there with humid bow Waters the odorous banks, that blow Than her purfled scarf can shew, Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced Make her his eternal bride, And from her fair unspotted side 980 990 1000 Two blissful twins are to be born, Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn. ΙΟΙΟ But now my task is smoothly done: I can fly, or I can run, Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend, And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the moon. Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue; she alone is free. Heaven itself would stoop to her. 1020 LYCIDAS. In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637; and, by occasion, foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy, then in their height. YET once more, O ye laurels, and once more, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Begin, then, Sisters of the sacred well So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour my destined urn, And as he passes turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud! For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, ΙΟ 20 |