Of all thy dues be done, and none left but,
Ere the babbling eastern scout,
The nice morn, on th' Indian steep
From her cabin'd loophole peep,
And to the tell-tale sun descry
Our conceal'd solemnity.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 145
Of some chaste footing near about this ground.
Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees;
Our number may affright: Some virgin sure
(For so I can distinguish by mine art)
Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms,
And to my wily trains; I shall ere long
Be well-stock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazzling spells into the spungy air,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, 155
And give it false presentments, lest the place
And my quaint habits breed astonishment,
'Aurora rose with ruddy face upon the Indian Heaven.' Sylvest. Du Bartas, p. 392. 140 loophole] See note on Lallah Rookh, p. 393, ed. 8vo. 154 spungy] G. Peele's Works, by Dyce, ii. 262. ed. 1829. 'Not clouds cast from this spungie element.' This word is used in N. Richards's Messalina, Sig. B 7, their spungie virtue into vice.'
And put the damsel to suspicious flight,
Which must not be, for that's against my course:
I, under fair pretence of friendly ends,
And well-plac'd words of glozing courtesy
Baited with reasons not unplausible.
Wind me into the easy-hearted man,
And hug him into snares. When once her
Hath met the virtue of this magic dust,
I shall appear some harmless villager,
Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
But here she comes, I fairly step aside,
And hearken, if I may, her business here.
This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,
My best guide now; methought it was the sound
Of riot and ill-manag'd merriment,
Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe
Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds,
When for their teeming flocks, and granges full,
In wanton dance, they praise the bounteous Pan,
And thank the Gods amiss. I should be loath
161 glozing] See Sylvester's Du Bartas, p. 92.
163 Wind] Win. Tickell, Fenton.
165 magic dust] This referred to ver. 154, my dazzling spells,' which originally stood powdered spells.'
166 I shall appear] The ed. of 1673,
'I shall appear some harmless villager,
And hearken, if I may, her business here.
But here she comes, I fairly step aside.'
Where, besides the transposition, the line, Whom thrift,' &c. is omitted. Warton.
163 fairly] softly. Hurd.
To meet the rudeness, and swill'd insolence
Of such late wassailers; yet O where else
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?
My Brothers, when they saw me wearied out
With this long way, resolving here to lodge
Under the spreading favour of these pines,
Stepp'd, as they said, to the next thicket side 185
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit
As the kind hospitable woods provide.
They left me then, when the gray-hooded Even
Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain.
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labour of my thoughts; 'tis likeliest
They had engag'd their wand'ring steps too far;
And envious darkness, ere they could return,
Had stole them from me: else, O thievish Night,
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end,
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars,
That nature hung in heav'n, and fill'd their lamps
With everlasting oil, to give due light
To the misled and lonely traveller ?
This is the place, as well as I may guess,
Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth
180 inform] Sams. Agon. 335. inform'd your younger feet.' Warton.
189 votarist] Benlowe's Theophila, p 32 and P. 60.
'Sad votaresse! thy Earth of late o'ergrown
195 thiev h] P. Fletcher's Pisc. Eclog. p. 34, ed. 1633,
The thievish night steals on the world.' Warton.
Was rife, and perfect in my list'ning ear,
Yet nought but single darkness do I find.
What might this be? A thousand fantasies 205
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues, that syllable men's names
On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
These thoughts may startle well, but not astound
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a strong-siding champion, Conscience.-
O welcome pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering Angel, girt with golden wings,
And thou, unblemish'd form of Chastity!
I see ye visibly, and now believe
That he, the Supreme Good, t' whom all things ill
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,
Would send a glist'ring guardian, if need were,
To keep my life and honour unassail'd.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
I did not err, there does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove:
I cannot halloo to my Brothers, but
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest
I'll venture, for my new enliven'd spirits
Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.
221 Was I deceiv'd] Ov. Fast. v. 545.
'Fallor? an arma sonant? Non fallimur: arma sonabant.'
SWEET Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-embroider'd vale,
Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; 235 Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
That likest thy Narcissus are?
Hid them in some flow'ry cave,
Tell me but where,
Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere! So mayst thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all heav'n's harmonies.
COM. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould
Breathe such divine inchanting ravishment? 215
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air
To testify his hidden residence:
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, 250
231 shell] The margin of the Cambridge MS. Cell.' Hurd and Warburton observe that shell' means the horizon, the hollow circumference of the heavens.
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