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Towred cities please us then,
while both contend
Of hcapt Elysian flowers, and hear
MILTON. VOL. III.
Hence vain deluding Joys,
The brood of Folly without father bred, How little
bested, Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ? Dwell in some idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the sun-beams, Or likeliest hovering dreams
The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy, Hail divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright To hit the sense of human sight, And therefore to our weaker view O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; Black, but such as in esteem Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove To set her beauties'
above The sea-nymphs, and their pow'rs offended : Yet thou art higher far descended, Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore To solitary Saturn bore ; Ilis daughter she (in Saturn's reign, Such mixture was nut helu a stain,)
Oft in glimmering bowers and glades
In her sweetest, saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, Gently o'er th' accustom'd oak: Sweet bird that shun'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy ! Thee chauntress oft the woods among I woo to hear thy even-song; And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wand'ring moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the Heav'ni's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Stooping through a fleecy cloud. Oft on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfeu sound, Over some wide-water'd shore, Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or, if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach Light to counterfeit a gloom., Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the belman's drousy charm, To bless the doors from nightly harm : Or let my lamp at midnight hour, Be seen in some high lonely tow's,