From the ploughboy's heavy shoon;
When the Night doth meet the Noon
In a dark conspiracy

To banish Even from her sky.

Sit thee there, and send abroad,
With a mind self-overaw'd,

Fancy, high-commission'd:-send her!
She has vassals to attend her:
She will bring, in spite of frost,
Beauties that the earth hath lost;
She will bring thee, all together,
All delights of summer weather;
All the buds and bells of May,
From dewy sward or thorny spray;
All the heaped Autumn's wealth,
With a still, mysterious stealth:
She will mix these pleasures up
Like three fit wines in a cup,

And thou shalt quaff it:-thou shalt hear
Distant harvest-carols clear;

Rustle of the reaped corn;

Sweet birds antheming the morn:

And, in the same moment-hark!

"Tis the early April lark,

Or the rooks, with busy caw,
Foraging for sticks and straw.
Thou shalt, at one glance, behold
The daisy and the marigold;
White-plum'd lillies, and the first
Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;

Shaded hyacinth, alway

Sapphire queen of the mid-May;

And every leaf, and every flower
Pearled with the self-same shower.

30

40

50

24 Even] vesper Holograph.

28 She has] She'll have MSS.

She will bring thee spite of frost... MSS.

29

33-4

All the faery buds of May

43-5

On spring turf or scented spray; Holograph.

And in the same moment hark

To the early April lark

And the rooks with busy caw... MSS.

50 Hedge-row primrose MSS. 54 same soft shower MSS.

Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep;
And the snake all winter-thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see
Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,

60

When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;

Whose lip mature is ever new?
Where's the eye, however blue,
Doth not weary? Where's the face
One would meet in every place?
Where's the voice, however soft,
One would hear so very oft?
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.
Let, then, winged Fancy find
Thee a mistress to thy mind:
Dulcet-eyed as Ceres' daughter,
Ere the God of Torment taught her
How to frown and how to chide;
With a waist and with a side

55 peep] creep Holograph.

57-8

And the snake all winter-shrank

Cast its skin on sunny bank... MSS.

66 Additional couplet after this line:

For the same sleek-throated mouse

To store up in its winter house. MSS.

67-8 Instead of this couplet the manuscripts have four lines: O sweet fancy let her loose!

Every sweet is spoilt by use

Every pleasure every joy
Not a mistress but doth cloy...

76 too oft and oft MSS.

80

White as Hebe's, when her zone
Slipt its golden clasp, and down
Fell her kirtle to her feet,

While she held the goblet sweet,

And Jove grew languid.-Break the mesh
Of the Fancy's silken leash;

Quickly break her prison-string

And such joys as these she'll bring.—
Let the winged Fancy roam,

Pleasure never is at home.

ODE

90

[Written on the blank page before Beaumont and Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy "The Fair Maid of the Inn."]

BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wond'rous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease

10

89-91 Instead of these three lines the manuscripts have the following

seventeen:

And Jove grew languid. Mistress fair!
Thou shalt have that tressed hair

Adonis tangled all for spite

And the mouth he would not kiss
And the treasure he would miss :
And the hand he would not press
And the warmth he would distress
O the ravishment-the bliss-
Fancy has her-there she is!
Never fulsome-ever new

There she steps! and tell me who

Has a mistress so divine ?

Be the palate ne'er so fine

She cannot sicken. Break the mesh

Of the Fancy's silken leash

Where she's tether'd to the heart

Quick break her prison string...

4 Cancelled line in the Beaumont and Fletcher manuscript after line 4— With the earth ones I am talking.

Seated on Elysian lawns

Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.

Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;

What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.

Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Ye have souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new!

19-20 But melodious truth divine

Philosophic numbers fine,... Holographs.

21 Tales] Stories Holographs, rejected.

29 souls] loves Holographs, rejected.

30-1

To mortals of the little Week

They must sojourn...

Beaumont and Fletcher and Woodhouse.

31 and delights] with their cares Holograph and Woodhouse.

20

30

40

LINES ON THE MERMAID TAVERN

SOULS of Poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Have ye tippled drink more fine
Than mine host's Canary wine?
Or are fruits of Paradise
Sweeter than those dainty pies
Of venison? O generous food!
Drest as though bold Robin Hood
Would, with his maid Marian,
Sup and bowse from horn and can.

I have heard that on a day
Mine host's sign-board flew away,
Nobody knew whither, till
An astrologer's old quill

To a sheepskin gave the story,
Said he saw you in your glory,
Underneath a new old sign

Sipping beverage divine,

And pledging with contented smack

The Mermaid in the Zodiac.

Souls of Poets dead and gone,

What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,

Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?

Title] Ode, 1818 Museum.

4 Choicer] Fairer Dilke and Woodhouse.

8 Sweeter] Richer Museum.

9 O generous] delicious Museum.

10

20

15 The Museum holograph shows a slip here-know wither for knew whither.

19 Instead of new old-sign, the reading of the first edition, the Museum holograph and Woodhouse read new old sign, and the Dilke copy new-old sign.

23-6 Souls of Poets dead and gone,

Are the winds a sweeter home,

Richer is uncellar'd cavern

Than the Merry Mermaid Tavern? Dilke and Woodhouse.