| HENCE loathèd Melancholy | |
| Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, | |
| In Stygian Cave forlorn | |
| 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy. | |
| Find out som uncouth cell, | 5 |
| Where brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings, | |
| And the night-Raven sings; | |
| There, under Ebon shades, and low-brow'd Rocks, | |
| As ragged as thy Locks, | |
| In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. | 10 |
| But com thou Goddes fair and free, | |
| In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne, | |
| And by men, heart-easing Mirth, | |
| Whom lovely Venus, at a birth | |
| With two sister Graces more | 15 |
| To Ivy-crownèd Bacchus bore; | |
| Or whether (as som Sager sing) | |
| The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring, | |
| Zephir with Aurora playing, | |
| As he met her once a Maying, | 20 |
| There on Beds of Violets blew, | |
| And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew, | |
| Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair, | |
| So bucksom, blith, and debonair. | |
| Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee | 25 |
| Jest and youthful Jollity, | |
| Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, | |
| Nods, and Becks, and Wreathèd Smiles, | |
| Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, | |
| And love to live in dimple sleek; | 30 |
| Sport that wrincled Care derides, | |
| And Laughter holding both his sides. | |
| Com, and trip it as ye go | |
| On the light fantastick toe, | |
| And in thy right hand lead with thee, | 35 |
| The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty; | |
| And if I give thee honour due, | |
| Mirth, admit me of thy crue | |
| To live with her, and live with thee, | |
| In unreprovèd pleasures free; | 40 |
| To hear the Lark begin his flight, | |
| And singing startle the dull night, | |
| From his watch-towre in the skies, | |
| Till the dappled dawn doth rise; | |
| Then to com in spight of sorrow, | 45 |
| 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 darknes thin, | 50 |
| And to the stack, or the Barn dore, | |
| Stoutly struts his Dames before, | |
| Oft list'ning how the Hounds and horn | |
| Chearly rouse the slumbring morn, | |
| From the side of som Hoar Hill, | 55 |
| Through the high wood echoing shrill. | |
| Som time walking not unseen | |
| By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green, | |
| Right against the Eastern gate, | |
| Wher the great Sun begins his state, | 60 |
| Rob'd in flames, and Amber light, | |
| The clouds in thousand Liveries dight. | |
| While the Plowman neer at hand, | |
| Whistles ore the Furrow'd Land, | |
| And the Milkmaid singeth blithe, | 65 |
| And the Mower whets his sithe, | |
| And every Shepherd tells his tale | |
| Under the Hawthorn in the dale. | |
| Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures | |
| Whilst the Lantskip round it measures, | 70 |
| Russet Lawns, and Fallows Gray, | |
| Where the nibling flocks do stray, | |
| Mountains on whose barren brest | |
| The labouring clouds do often rest: | |
| Meadows trim with Daisies pide, | 75 |
| Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide. | |
| Towers, and Battlements it sees | |
| Boosom'd high in tufted Trees, | |
| Wher perhaps som beauty lies, | |
| The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. | 80 |
| Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes, | |
| From betwixt two agèd Okes, | |
| Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, | |
| Are at their savory dinner set | |
| Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes, | 85 |
| Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; | |
| And then in haste her Bowre she leaves, | |
| With Thestylis to bind the Sheaves; | |
| Or if the earlier season lead | |
| To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead, | 90 |
| Som times with secure delight | |
| The up-land Hamlets will invite, | |
| When the merry Bells ring round, | |
| And the jocond rebecks sound | |
| To many a youth, and many a maid, | 95 |
| Dancing in the Chequer'd shade; | |
| And young and old com forth to play | |
| On a Sunshine Holyday, | |
| Till the live-long day-light fail, | |
| Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale, | 100 |
| With stories told of many a feat, | |
| How Faery Mab the junkets eat, | |
| She was pincht, and pull'd the sed, | |
| And he by Friars Lanthorn led | |
| Tells how the drudging Goblin swet, | 105 |
| To ern his Cream-bowle duly set, | |
| When in one night, ere glimps of morn, | |
| His shadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corn | |
| That ten day-labourers could not end, | |
| Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend, | 110 |
| And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length, | |
| Basks at the fire his hairy strength; | |
| And Crop-full out of dores he flings, | |
| Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings. | |
| Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep, | 115 |
| By whispering Windes soon lull'd asleep. | |
| Towred Cities please us then, | |
| And the busie humm of men, | |
| Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold, | |
| In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold, | 120 |
| With store of Ladies, whose bright eies | |
| Rain influence, and judge the prise | |
| Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend | |
| To win her Grace, whom all commend. | |
| There let Hymen oft appear | 125 |
| In Saffron robe, with Taper clear, | |
| And pomp, and feast, and revelry, | |
| With mask, and antique Pageantry, | |
| Such sights as youthfull Poets dream | |
| On Summer eeves by haunted stream. | 130 |
| Then to the well-trod stage anon, | |
| If Jonsons learnèd Sock be on, | |
| Or sweetest Shakespear fancies childe, | |
| Warble his native Wood-notes wilde, | |
| And ever against eating Cares, | 135 |
| Lap me in soft Lydian Aires, | |
| Married to immortal verse | |
| Such as the meeting soul may pierce | |
| In notes, with many a winding bout | |
| Of linckèd sweetnes long drawn out, | 140 |
| With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, | |
| The melting voice through mazes running; | |
| Untwisting all the chains that ty | |
| The hidden soul of harmony. | |
| That Orpheus self may heave his head | 145 |
| From golden slumber on a bed | |
| Of heapt Elysian flowres, and hear | |
| Such streins as would have won the ear | |
| Of Pluto, to have quite set free | |
| His half regain'd Eurydice. | 150 |
| These delights, if thou canst give, | |
| Mirth with thee, I mean to live. | |
