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We that are of purer fire

Imitate the starry quire,

Who, in their nightly watchful spheres,

Lead in fwift round the months and years.
The founds and feas, with all their finny drove,
Now to the moon in wavering morrice move;
And on the tawny fands and shelves

Trip the pert faeries and the dapper elves.
By dimpled brook, and fountain brim,
The Wood-Nymphs deck'd with daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep :
What hath night to do with fleep?

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Night hath better sweets to prove,

Venus now wakes, and wakens love.

Come let us our rites begin,

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'Tis only day-light that makes fin,

Which thefe dun fhades will ne'er report.
Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport,

Dark-veil'd Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burns; mysterious dame,
That ne'er art call'd, but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spits her thickest gloom
And makes one blot of all the air,

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Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,

Wherein thou rid'ft with Hecat', and befriend
Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end

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of

Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
Ere the blabbing eastern scout,

The nice morn on th' Indian steep

From her cabin'd loophole peep,

And to the tell-tale fun defcry

Our conceal'd folemnity.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

The MEASURE.

Break off, break off, I feel the different pace
Of fome chafte footing near about this ground.

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Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees;
Our number may affright: Some virgin fure
(For fo I can diftinguish by mine art)

Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 150
And to my wily trains; I fhall ere long
Be well-ftock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazling spells into the fpungy air,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illufion
And give it falfe prefentments, left the place
And my quaint habits breed aftonishment,
And put the damfel to fufpicious flight,

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Which must not be, for that's against my courfe;
I under fair pretence of friendly ends,

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And well-plac'd words of glozing courtesy

Baited with reafons not unplaufible,

Wind me into the easy-hearted man,

And hug him into fnares. When once her eye

Hath

Hath met the virtue of this magic dust,

I shall appear fome harmless villager,

Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
But here she comes, I fairly step aside,
And hearken, if I may, her business here.

The LADY enters.

This way the noife was, if mine ear be true,
My best guide now; methought it was the found
Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment,

Such as the jocond flute, or gamesome pipe,
Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds,

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When for their teeming flocks, and granges full, 175
In wanton dance they praife the bounteous Pan,
And thank the Gods amifs. I fhould be loath
To meet the rudenefs and fwill'd infolence

Of fuch late waffailers; yet O where else
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?
My Brothers, when they faw me wearied out
With this long way, refolving here to lodge
Under the spreading favor of these pines,
Stept, as they faid, to the next thicket fide

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To bring me berries, or fuch cooling fruit

As the kind hofpitable woods provide.

They left me then, when the gray-hooded Even,
Like a fad votarist in palmer's weed,

Rofe from the hindmoft wheels of Phoebus' wain, 190
But where they are, and why they came not back,

Is now the labor of my thoughts; 'tis likelieft

They

They had engag'd their wandering steps too far,

And envious darkness, ere they could return,

Had ftole them from me; elfe, O thievith Night, 195 Why should't thou, but for some felonious end,

In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars,

That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their lamps
With everlasting oil, to give due light

To the misled and lonely traveller ?

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,

Of calling shapes, and beckoning fhadows dire,
And aery tongues, that fyllable mens names

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On fands, and fhores, and defert wildernesses.
These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a strong fiding champion, conscience.---
O welcome pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings,
And thou unblemish'd form of Chastity;

I see you visibly, and now believe

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That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all things ill
Are but as flavish officers of vengeance,

Would send a glistering guardian, if need were,
To keep my life and honor unassail'd.

Was I deceiv'd, or did a fable cloud

Turn forth her filver lining on the night?

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I did not err, there does a fable cloud

Turn forth her filver lining on the night,
And cafts a gleam over this tufted grove.
I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but

Such noife as I can make to be heard fartheft
I'll venture, for my new inliven'd spirits
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.

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SWEET Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy aery shell,

By flow Meander's margent green,

And in the violet-embroider'd vale,

Where the love-lorn nightingale

Nightly to thee her fad fong mourneth well;

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Canft thou not tell me of a gentle pair

That likeft thy Narciffus are?

O if thou have

Hid them in fome flowery cave,

Tell me but where,

Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere,

So may'st thou be tranflated to the skies,

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And give refounding grace to all Heav'n's harmonies.

COм. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mold

Breathe fuch divine inchanting ravishment?

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Sure fomething holy lodges in that breast,

And with these raptures moves the vocal air
To testify his hidden refidence:

How fweetly did they flote upon the wings

VOL. III.

K

Of

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