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The pangs of absence, O remove,

For thou canst place me near my love,
Canft fold in visionary bliss,

And let me think I fteal a kifs.

When young-eye'd fpring profufely throws
From her green lap the pink and rofe;
When the foft turtle of the dale

To fummer tells her tender tale,
When autumn cooling caverns feeks,
And ftains with wine his jolly cheeks,
When winter, like poor pilgrim old,
Shakes his filver-beard with cold,
At ev'ry season let my ear
Thy folemn whispers, fancy, hear.
O warm, enthufiaftic maid,
Without thy powerful, vital aid,
That breathes an energy divine,
That gives a foul to ev'ry line;
Ne'er may I ftrive with lips profane
To utter an unhallow'd ftrain,

. Nor dare to touch the facred string,
Save when with smiles thou bidft me fing.
O hear our prayer, O hither come
From thy lamented Shakspeare's tomb,
On which thou lov'ft to fit at eve,
Mufing o'er thy darling's grave;
O queen of numbers, once again
Animate fome chosen swain,
Who, fill'd with unexhausted fire,
May boldly ftrike the founding lyre,
May rife above the rhyming throng,
And with fome new unequall'd fong
O'er all my lift'ning paffions reign,
O'er-whelm our fouls with joy and pain;

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With terror shake, with pity move,
Roufe with revenge, or melt with love.
O deign t' attend his evening walk,
With him in groves and grottoes talk:
Teach him to fcorn with frigid art,
Feebly to touch th' unraptur'd heart;
Like lightning let his mighty verse
The bofom's inmoft foldings pierce :
With native beauties win applaufe,
Beyond cold critics' ftudied laws :
Q let each mufe's fame increase,
O bid Britannia rival Greece !

CHAPTER XVI.

L' ALLEGRO.

HENCE loathed melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn,

WARTON

'Mongft horrid fhapes, and fhrieks, and fights unholy,, Find 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 yclep'd Euphrofyne,
And by men, heart-eafing mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth,
With two fifler graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as fome fages 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 freth-blown rofes wafh'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.

Hafte thee, nymph, and bring with thee, Jeft and youthful jollity,

Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed fmiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple fleek;
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, fweet 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 ftartle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife;
Then to come, in fpite of forrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the fweet-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-door,
Stoutly fruts his da.nes before:

Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Cheerly roufe the flumb'ring morn,
From the fide of fome hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing fhrill:.
Some time walking not unseen.
By hedge-row elms, or hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,

Where the great fun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thoufand liveries dight,
While the ploughman near at hand,
Whiftles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his fcythe,
And every fhepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilft the landscape round it meafures,
Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray,,
Where the nibbling flocks do ftray,
Mountains on whofe barren breast,
The labouring clouds do often reft,,
Meadows trim with daifies pied;
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 oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favoury dinner fet
Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the heat-handed Phyllis dreffes;

And then in hafte her bower the leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the theaves;
Or if the earlier feafon lead

To the tann'd hay-cock in the mead..
Sometimes with fecure delight

The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks found

To many a youth, and many a maid,.
Dancing in the chequer'd shade ;

And young and old come forth to play;
On a funthine holiday,

Till the live long day light fail;
Then to the fpicy nut-brown ale,
With ftories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat;
She was pinch'd, and pull'd, the said,
And he by friar's lanthorn led,

Tells how the drudging goblin fweat
To earn his cream-bowl duly fe
When in one night, ere glimpfe of morn,
His fhadowy flail had thrash'd the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end;
Then lies him down the lubber fiend,
And ftretch'd out all the chimney's length,,
Baiks at the fire his hairy ftrength,
And cropful out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering winds foon luil'd aileep.
Tow'red cities please us then,

And the bufy hum of men,

Where throngs of knights and barons bold In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, With ftores of ladies, whofe bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize

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