Spir. Goddefs dear,

We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band

Of true virgin here distrest,

Through the force, and through the wife

Of unbleft inchanter vile.

Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office best. To help infnared chastity;

Brightest lady look on me,

Thus I fprinkle on thy breast
Drops that from my fountain pure
I have kept of precious cure,
Thrice upon thy fingers tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip,
Next this marble venom'd feat

Smear'd with gumms of glutinous heat
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold
Now the spell hath loft his hold;

And I must hafte ere morning hour

To wait in Amphitrite's bow'r.

Sabrina defcends, and the Lady rifes out of her feat.

Spir. Virgin daughter of Locrine,

Sprung of old Anchifes line,

May thy brimmed waves for this

Their full tribute never mifs

From a thousand petty rills,
That tumble down the fnowy hills:
Summer drouth, or finged air

Never fcorch thy tresses fair,

Nor wet October's torrent flood

Thy molten crystal fill with mud;
May thy billows rowl afhoar
The beryl, and the golden ore,
May thy lofty head be crown'd
With many a tower and terrass round,
And here and there thy banks upon
With groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon.

Come lady, while heav'n lends us grace,
Let us fly this curfed place,
Left the forcerer us intice
With fome other new device.
Not a waste, or needlefs found,
Till we come to holier ground,
I shall be your faithful guide
Through this gloomy covert wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your father's residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wifh'd prefence; and beside
All the fwains that there abide,
With jigs, and rural dance refort,
We shall catch them at their fport,
And our fudden coming there

Will double all their mirth and cheer;
Come let us hafte, the stars grow high,
But night fits monarch yet in the mid sky.

The fcene changes, prefenting Ludlow town, and the Prefident's caftle, then come in country dancers, after them the attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.

SONG.

Spir. Back, Shepherds, back, enough your play.

Till next fun-fhine holiday,

Here be without duck, or nod,

Other trippings to be trod

Of lighter toes, and such court guife

As Mercury did first devife

With the mincing Dryades

On the lawns, and on the lens.

This fecond Song presents them to their Father and

Mother.

Noble lord and lady bright,
I have brought ye new delight,
Here behold fo goodly grown

Three fair branches of your own,
Heav'n hath timely try'd their youth,

Their faith, their patience, and their truth,
And fent them here through hard assays
With a crown of deathless praise,

To triumph in victorious dance

O'er fenfual folly, and intemperance.

The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.

Spir. To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that ly Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky: There I fuck the liquid air

All amidst the gardens fair

Of Hefperus, and his daughters three.
That fing about the golden tree::
Along the crifped shades and bowers
Revels the spruce and jocund spring,
The graces, and the rosie-bosom'd hours,
Thither all their bounties bring,
There eternal fummer dwells,

And weft winds, with musky wing

About the cedar'n alleys fling

Nard, and Caffia's balmy smells.

Iris there with humid bow,

Waters the odorous banks that blow

Flowers of more mingled hew
Than her purfled scarf can shew,
And drenches with Elysian dew
(Lift mortals, if your ears be true)
Beds of Hyacinth, and rofes
Where young Adonis oft repofes,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In flumber foft, and on the ground
Sadly fits th' Affyrian queen ;
But far above in spangled sheen

Celestial Cupid her fam'd fon advanc'd,
Holds his dear Pfyche fweet intranc'd,
After her wandring labours long,
Till free confent the gods among
Make her his eternal bride,

And from her fair unspotted fide
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and joy; fo 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 bow'd welkin flow doth bend,

And from thence can foar as foon

To the corners of the moon.

Mortals that would follow me,

Love virtue, fhe alone is free,
She can teach you how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or if virtue feeble were,

Heav'n itfelf would stoop to her.