With such a full and unwithdrawing

hand, Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable,

But all to please, and sate the curious taste?

And set to work millions of spinning worms,

That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk

To deck her sons; and that no corner might

Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins

She hutched the all worshipped ore, and precious gems,

To store her children with: if all the world

Should in a pet of temperance feed

There was another meaning in these gifts,

Think what, and be advised, you are but young yet.

Lady. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips

In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler

Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes,

Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb.

I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments,

And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride.

Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature,

As if she would her children should be riotous

With her abundance; she, good cateress,

Means her provision only to the good,

That live according to her sober laws,

And holy dictate of spare temper

ance:

If every just man, that now pines with want,

mace,

And Tethys' grave majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wizard's hook,
By scaly Triton's winding shell,
And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell,
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her son that rules the strands,
By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet,
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
And fair Ligea's golden comb,
Wherewith she sits on diamond
rocks,

Sleeking her soft alluring locks,
By all the nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy streams with wily glance,
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head
From thy coral-paven bed,

And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered have.

Listen and save.

SABRINA rises, attended by waternymphs, and sings.

By the rushy-fringed bank, Where grow the willow and the osier dank,

My sliding chariot stays, Thick set with agate, and the azurn

sheen

Of turkis blue, and emerald green, That in the channel strays; Whilst from off the waters fleet, Thus I set my printless feet

O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread;
Gentle Swain, at thy request
I am here.

Spir. - Goddess dear,

We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band

Of true virgin here distressed, Through the force, and through the wile

Of unblest enchanter vile.

Sabr.- Shepherd, 'tis my office
best

To help ensnared chastity:
Brightest Lady, look on me;
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure
I have kept of precious cure,
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip;
Next this marble venomed seat,
Smeared with gums of glutinous
heat,

I touch with chaste palms moist and cold:

Now the spell hath lost his hold; And I must haste ere morning hour To wait in Amphitrite's bower.

SABRINA descends, and the LADY rises out of her seut.

Spir. — Virgin, daughter of Locrine,

Sprung of old Anchises' line,
May thy brimmèd waves for this
Their full tribute never miss
From a thousand petty rills,
That tumble down the snowy hills:
Summer drouth, or singèd air
Never scorch thy tresses fair,
Nor wet October's torrent flood
Thy molten crystal fill with mud;
May thy billows roll ashore
The beryl, and the golden ore;
May thy lofty head be crowned
With many a tower and terrace round,
And here and there thy banks upon
With groves of myrrh and cinnamon.
Come, Lady, while heaven lends

And not many furlongs thence
Is your Father's residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wished presence, and beside
All the swains that there abide,
With jigs, and rural dance resort;
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and cheer;
Come, let us haste, the stars grow
high,

But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and the President's castle; then come in country dancers, after them the ATTENDANT SPIRIT, with the Two BROTHERS, and the LADY.

There I suck the liquid air
All amidst the gardens fair
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree:
Along the crisped shades and bowers
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring,
The Graces, and the rosy-bosomed
Hours,

Thither all their bounties bring;
There eternal Summer dwells,
And west-winds, with musky wing,
About the cedarn alleys fling
Nard and cassia's balmy smells.
Iris there with humid bow
Waters the odorous banks, that blow
Flowers of more mingled hue
Than her purfled scarf can show,
And drenches with Elysian dew,
(List mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of hyacinth and roses,
Where young Adonis oft reposes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In slumber soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits the Assyrian queen;
But far above in spangled sheen
Celestial Cupid, her famed son, ad-
vanced,

Holds his dear Psyche sweet en

tranced,

After her wandering labors long,
Till free consent the Gods among
Make her his eternal bride,

And from her fair unspotted side
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.

But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run

Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend,

And from thence can soar as soon
To the corners of the moon.

Mortals, that would follow me,
Love Virtue, she alone is free;
She can teach ye how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime:
Or, if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her.
MILTON.

MYTHOLOGY.

O NEVER rudely will I blame his faith In the might of stars and angels! 'Tis not merely

The human being's Pride that peoples space

With life and mystical predomi

nance;

Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love

This visible nature, and this common world,

Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import

Lurks in the legend told my infant

years

Than lies upon that truth we live to learn.

For fable is Love's world, his home, his birthplace:

Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays and talismans,

And spirits; and delightedly believes
Divinities, being himself divine.
The intelligible forms of ancient
poets,

The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty,

That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain,

Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring,

Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished;

They live no longer in the faith of