I know this quest of yours, and free intent 35 45 And lead ye where ye may more near behold 40 46 curl] Jonson's Mask at Welbeck, 1633, ver. 15. 50 brush] Tempest, act i. sc. 4. 'As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd.' and P. L. v. ver. 429. Warton. 52 cross] Shakesp. Jul. Cæs. act i. sc. 3. And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open Warton. And early, ere the odorous breath of morn With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless; That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And keep unsteady Nature to her law, 65 75 73 gross] Compare Shakesp. Merchant of Venice, act v. sc. 1. 'There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims. But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it. Shakesp. Mid. N. D. act iii. sc. 1. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so, &c. Warton. Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, Whate'er the skill of lesser Gods can show, 80 SONG II. O'ER the smooth enamell'd green, And touch the warbled string, Of branching elm star-proof. Follow me, I will bring you where she sits, Clad in splendour as befits Her deity. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen. 85 90 95 SONG III. NYMPHS and Shepherds dance no more 89 star] Sun-proof arbours.' Sylvester's Du Bartas, 171, and G. Peele's David and Bethsabe, 1599. This shade, sun-proof, is yet no proof for thee.' Warton and Todd. By sandy Ladon's lilied banks; On old Lycæus or Cyllene hoar s; Trip no more in twilight ranks Though Erymanth your loss deplore, A better soil shall give ye thanks. Bring your flocks, and live with us, To serve the Lady of this place. Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen. By sandy Ladon's lilied banks] Giles Fletcher's Christ's Victorie and Triumph, 1632. 'To Ladon sands,' p. 14. and 'On either side bank't with a lily wall,' p. 49. A. Dyce. "sandy] Browne's Brit. Past. ii. st. iv. p. 107. • The silver Ladon on his sandy shore. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ANNO ÆTATIS 17. ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, DYING OF A COUGH. I. O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye 5 That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. II. For since grim Aquilo his charioteer By boisterous rape th' Athenian damsel got, O] Shakespeare's Passionate Pilgrim. 'Swet Rose, fair flower, untimely pluckt, soon vaded, Fair Creature, kild too soone by Death's sharpe sting.' kiss] Shakesp. Venus and Adonis, 'He thought to kiss him, and hath kill'd him so.' Todd. 10 Newton. |