Comus,; a Mask: Presented at Ludlow Castle 1634, Before the Earl of Bridgewater, Then President of Wales
General Books LLC, 2009 - 66 pages
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1799 edition. Excerpt: ... 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 hallow 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. SONG. 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; Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? O, if thou have Hid them in some flow'ry cave. Tell me but where, . Sweet queen of parly, daughter of the sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies. Enter Comus. Com. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? 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, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness, till it smil'd! I have oft heard My mother Circe with the Sirens three, Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiads, Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, And lap it in Elysium; Scylla wept, And chid her barking waves into attention, And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause: Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense. And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself; But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober...
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