ENCE loathed Melancholy,.
Of Cerberus, and blackeft midnight born, In Stygian Cave forlorn
[holy, 'Mongft horrid shapes, and shreiks, and fights unFind out fome uncouth cell,
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-Raven fings;
There under Ebon fhades, and low-brow'd Rocks, As ragged as thy Locks,
In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell,
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrofyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two fifter Graces more
To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as fome Sages fing)
The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying,
There on Beds of Violets blew,
And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buckfom, blith, and debonair,
Hafte thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft 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 fleek;
Sport that wrinckled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
VOL. I.
Come, and trip it as ye go
On the light fantastick toe,
And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The Mountain Nymph, (weet Liberty,
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crue
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free:
To hear the Lark begin his flight,
And finging startle the dull night,
From his watch-towre in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife,
Then to come in fpight of forrow,
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 ftack, or the Barn dore,
Stoutly ftruts his Dames before,
Oft lift'ning how the Hounds and horn,
Chearly roufe the flumbring morn,
From the fide of fome Hoar Hill,
Through the high wood echoing frill.
Sometime walking not unfeen-
By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green,
Right against the Eaftern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and Amber light,
The clouds in thousand Liveries dight.
While the Plowman neer at hand,
Whittles o'er the Furrow'd Land,
And the Milkmaid fingeth blithe,
And the Mower whets his fithe,
And every Shepherd tells his tale
Under the Hawthorn in the dale.
Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the Lantskip round it measures,
Ruffet Lawns, and Fallows Gray,
Where the nibling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whofe barren breft
The labouring clouds do often rest:
Meadows trim with Daifies pide,
Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.
Towers, and Battlements it fees
Bofom'd high in tufted Trees,
Where perhaps fome beauty lies,
The Cynofure of neighbouring eyes.
Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged Okes,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favory dinner fet
Of Herbs, and other Country Meffes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreffes;
And then in hafte her Bowre the leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the Sheaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead
To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead,
Sometimes with fecure delight
The up-land Hamlets will invite,
When the merry Bells ring round,
And the jocond rebecks found
To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the Chequer'd fhade;
And young and old come forth to play
On a Sunshine Holyday,
Till the live-long day-light fail,
Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How Faery Mab the junkets eat,
She was pincht, and pull'd the fed,
And he by Friars Lanthorn led:
Tells how the drudging Goblin fwet,
To ern his Cream-bowle duly fet,
When in one night, ere glimps of morn,
His fhadowy Flail hath thref'd the Cork
That ten day-labourers could not end.
Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend,
And ftretch'd out all the Chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy ftrength;
And Crop-full out of dores he flings,
Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.
Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering Windes foon lull'd afleep.
Towred Cities please us then,
And the bufie humm of men.
Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,
In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold,
With ftore of Ladies, whose bright eies
Rain influence, and judge the prise
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 feaft, and revelry,
With mask, and antique Pageantry,
Such fights as youthful Poets dream
On Summer eeves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod ftage anon,
If Johnsons learned Sock be on,
Or fweetest Shakespear fancies childe,
Warble his native Wood-notes wilde,
And ever against eating Cares,
Lap me in foft Lydian Aires,
Married to immortal verfe
Such as the meeting foul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of lincked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that ty
The hidden foul of harmony.
That Orpheus felf may heave his head
From golden flumber on a bed
Of heapt Elysian flowers, and hear
Such freins as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half regain'd Eurydice.
Thefe delights, if thou canft give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.
ENCE vain deluding joyes,
The brood of folly without father bred, How little you bested,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes; Dwell in fome idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shapes poffefs, As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams, Or likeft hovering dreams
The fickle Penfioners of Morpheus train.
But hail thou Goddefs, fage and holy,
Hail divineft Melancholy,
Whofe Saintly vifage is too bright
To hit the Senfe of human fight;
And therefore to our weaker view,
Ore laid with black ftaid Wifdoms hue,
Black, but fuch as in efteem,
Prince Memnons fifter might befeem,
Or that Starr'd Ethiope Queen that ftrove
To fet her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.
Yet thou art higher far defcended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore,
To folitary Saturn bore;
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