| | | HENCE, loathed Melancholy, |
| | | ............Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born |
| | | In Stygian cave forlorn |
| | | ............'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights |
| 5 | | unholy! |
| | | Find out some uncouth cell, |
| | | ............Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, |
| | | And the night-raven sings; |
| | | ............There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, |
| 10 | | As ragged as thy locks, |
| | | ............In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. |
| | | But come, thou Goddess fair and free, |
| | | In heaven yclept Euphrosyne, |
| | | And by men heart-easing Mirth; |
| 15 | | Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, |
| | | With two sister Graces more, |
| | | To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore: |
| | | Or whether (as some sager sing) |
| | | The frolic wind that breathes the spring, |
| 20 | | Zephyr, with Aurora pIaying, |
| | | As he met her once a-Maying, |
| | | There, on beds of violets blue, |
| | | And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, |
| | | Filled her with thee,. a daughter fair, |
| 25 | | 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 |
| 30 | | 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, |
| 35 | | On the light fantastic toe; |
| | | And in thy right hand lead with thee |
| | | The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty; |
| | | And, if I give thee honour due, |
| | | Mirth, admit me of thy crew, |
| 40 | | To live with her, and live with thee, |
| | | In unreproved pleasures free: |
| | | To hear the lark begin his flight, |
| | | And, singing, startle the dull night, |
| | | From his watch-tower in the skies, |
| 45 | | 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; |
| 50 | | 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 listening how the hounds and horn |
| 55 | | Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, |
| | | From the side of some hoar hill, |
| | | Through the high wood echoing shrill: |
| | | Sometime walking, not unseen, |
| | | By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, |
| 60 | | Right against the eastern gate |
| | | Where the great Sun begins his state, |
| | | Robed in flames and amber light, |
| | | The clouds in thousand liveries dight; |
| | | While the ploughman, near at hand, |
| 65 | | Whistles o'er the furrowed land, |
| | | And the milkmaid singeth blithe, |
| | | And the mower whets his scythe, |
| | | And every shepherd tells his tale |
| | | Under the hawthorn in the dale. |
| 70 | | Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, |
| | | Whilst the landskip round it measures: |
| | | Russet lawns, and fallows grey, |
| | | Where the nibbling flocks do stray; |
| | | Mountains on whose barren breast |
| 75 | | The labouring clouds do often rest; |
| | | Meadows trim, with daisies pied; |
| | | Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; |
| | | Towers and battlements it sees |
| | | Bosomed high in tufted trees, |
| 80 | | Where perhaps some beauty lies, |
| | | The cynosure of neighbouring eyes. |
| | | Hard by a cottage chimney smokes |
| | | From betwixt two aged oaks, |
| | | Where Corydon and Thyrsis met |
| 85 | | Are at their savoury dinner set |
| | | Of herbs and other country messes, |
| | | Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses; |
| | | And then in haste her bower she leaves, |
| | | With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; |
| 90 | | Or, if the earlier season lead, |
| | | To the tanned haycock in the mead. |
| | | Sometimes, with secure delight, |
| | | The upland hamlets will invite, |
| | | When the merry bells ring round, |
| 95 | | And the jocund rebecks sound |
| | | To many a youth and many a maid |
| | | Dancing in the chequered shade, |
| | | And young and old come forth to play |
| | | On a sunshine holiday, |
| 100 | | Till the livelong daylight fail: |
| | | Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, |
| | | With stories told of many a feat, |
| | | How Faery Mab the junkets eat. |
| | | She was pinched and pulled, she said; |
| 105 | | And he, by Friar's lantern led, |
| | | Tells how the drudging goblin sweat |
| | | To earn his cream-bowl duly set, |
| | | When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, |
| | | His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn |
| 110 | | That ten day-labourers could not end; |
| | | Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, |
| | | And, stretched out all the chimney's length, |
| | | Basks at the fire his hairy strength, |
| | | And crop-full out of doors he flings, |
| 115 | | Ere the first cock his matin rings. |
| | | Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, |
| | | By whispering winds soon lulled asleep. |
| | | Towered cities please us then, |
| | | And the busy hum of men, |
| 120 | | 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 |
| 125 | | To win her grace whom all commend. |
| | | There let Hymen oft appear |
| | | In saffron robe, with taper clear, |
| | | And pomp, and feast, and revelry, |
| | | With mask and antique pageantry; |
| 130 | | 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, |
| 135 | | 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, |
| 140 | | In notes with many a winding bout |
| | | Of linked sweetness long drawn out |
| | | With wanton heed and giddy cunning, |
| | | The melting voice through mazes running, |
| | | Untwisting all the chains that tie |
| 145 | | The hidden soul of harmony; |
| | | That Orpheus' self may heave his head |
| | | From golden slumber on a bed |
| | | Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear |
| | | Such strains as would have won the ear |
| 150 | | Of Pluto to have quite set free |
| | | His half-regained Eurydice. |
| | | These delights if thou canst give, |
| | | Mirth, with thee I mean to live. |
| | | |
Contributed by Robert Clark.