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There, in close covert, by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look,
Hide me from day's garish eye,
While the bee, with honey'd thigh,
That at her flow'ry work doth fing,
And the waters murmuring,
With such confort as they keep,
Entice the dewy feather'd seep;
And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings, in

aery

ftream
of lively portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid :
And, as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by fome Spirit to mortals good,
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloysters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antic pillars maffy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Cafting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full voic'd quire below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may, with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into extafies,
And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.
And may, at lait, my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,

The

The hairy grown and moffy cell,
Where I may fit, and rightly spell
Of
every

star that Heaven doth 'fhew,
And every herb that fips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
These pleasures, Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live,

L'ALLEGRO.

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Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorri, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and fights un

holy, Find out some uncouth cell,

Where brooding darknefs spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven fings;

There, under ebon shades, 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 yclep'd Euphrofine,
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 frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a maying;
There, on beds of violets blue,
And fresh blown roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Haste

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 sleek;
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter, holding both his fides.
Come, and trip it as you go,
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,
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-tow'r in the kies,
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 :
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or barn-door,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before :
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly rouse the slumb’ring morn,

From

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From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing Thrill:
Some time walking, not unseen,
By hedge row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great fun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight,
While the plowman, near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the landskip round it measures,
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray.
Mountains, on whose barren breast
The lab'ring clouds do often reft;
Meadows, trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Towers and battlements it fees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where, perhaps, some beauty lies,
The Cynosure of neighb'ring eyes.
Hard by a cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met,
Are at their favory dinner set,

Of

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