Woods and groves are of thy dreffing, Hill and dale doth boaft thy bleffing. Thus we falute thee with our early fong, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

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The labor of an age in piled stones,

Or that his hallow'd reliques fhould be hid,
Under a star-ypointing pyramid ?

Dear fon of memory, great heir of fame,

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What need'ft thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and aftonishment

Haft built thyself a live-long monument.

For whilft to th' fhame of flow-endevoring art
Thy eafy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Thofe Delphic lines with deep impreffion took,
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,,
Doft make us marble with too much conceiving;
And fo fepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,
That kings for fuch a tomb would wish to die.

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XI.

ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER; Who ficken'd in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, by reason of the plague.

H

girt,

ERE lies old Hobfon; Death hath broke his And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or elfe, the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a flough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. And furely death could never have prevail'd, Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd; But lately finding him so long at home, And thinking now his journey's end was come, And that he had ta'en up his latest inn,

In the kind office of a chamberlin

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Show'd him his room where he must lodge that night, Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light:

If any ask for him, it fhall be faid,

Hobfon has fupt, and 's newly gone to bed.

XII.

Another on the fame.

ERE lieth one, who did most truly prove

So hung his destiny, never to rot

While he might ftill jog on and keep his trot,

move;

H 2

Made

Made of fphere-metal, never to decay

Until his revolution was at stay.

Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time:
And, like an engin mov'd with wheel and weight,
His principles being ceas'd, he ended strait.
Reft, that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm

Too long vacation hasten'd on his term.

Merely to drive the time away he ficken'd,

Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, fure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers,
For one carrier put down to make fix bearers.
Eafe was his chief difeafe, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heaviness that his cart went light:
His leifure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burdenfome,

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That ev'n to his laft breath (there be that fay't) 25
As he were prefs'd to death, he cry'd, More weight!
But had his doings lafted as they were,

He had been an immortal carrier.
Obedient to the moon he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the feas,

Yet (ftrange to think) his wain was his increase:
His letters are deliver'd all and gone,

Only remains his fuperfcription.

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XIII. L'ALLEGRO.

H

XIII.

L'ALLEGRO.

ENCE, loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn

'Mongft horrid shapes, and fhrieks, and fights unholy, Find out fome uncouth cell,

5

Where brooding darkness fpreads 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 ycleap'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two fifter 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 fresh-blown roses wash'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,

H 3

Quips

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 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 honor 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-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 twifted eglantine:

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40

45

While the cock with lively din

Scatters the rear of darkness thin,

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And to the ftack, or the barn-door,

Stoutly ftruts his dames before:

Oft liftening how the hounds and horn
Chearly roufe the flumbering morn,
From the fide of fome hoar hill,

Through the high wood echoing fhrill:

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Some