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Spir. Goddefs dear,

We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band
Of true Virgin here diftreft,
Through the force, and through the wile
Of unbleft inchanter vile.

Sab. Shepherd, 'tis my office beft
To help infnared chastity:
Brightest Lady look on me,
Thus I fprinkle on thy breaft
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 gums of glutinous heat
I touch with chafte palms moift and cold
Now the spell hath lost 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 Seat,

Spir. Virgin daughter of Locrine,
Sprung of old Anchifes' line,
May thy brimmed waves for this
Their full tribute never mifs
From a thousand pretty rills,
That tumble down the fnowy hills:
Summer drought, or finged air
Never fcorch thy treffes fair,
Nor wet October's torrent flood
Thy molten cryftal 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 Myrrh, and Cinnamon.


Come, Lady, while Heav'n lends us grace,
Let us fly this curfed place,
Left the Sorcerer 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 Refidence,
Where, this night, are met in ftate
Many a friend to gratulate
His wifh'd prefence, and befide
All the Swains that there abide,
With Jiggs, and rural dance refort;
We fhall catch them at their fport,
And our fudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and chear.
Come, let us hafte, the Stars grow high,
But Night fits Monarch yet in the mid-fky.

The Scene 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.


Spir. Back, Shepherds, back; enough your play
Till next Sun-fhine holiday:

Here be without duck, or nod,
Other trippings to be trod
Of lighter toes, and fuch Court guife
As Mercury did firft devife,
With the mincing Dryades
On the Lawns, and on the Leas.

This fecond Song presents them to their Father and


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 affays
With a Crown of deathless Praife,
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 thofe happy Climes, that lie
Where day never fhuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the fky:
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 fhades and bowers
Revels the spruce and jocund Spring,
The Graces, and the rofie-bofom'd Hours,
Thither all their bounties bring;
There eternal Summer dwells,
And weft-winds, with mufky wing
About the cedarn' Alleys fling
Nard, and Caffia's balmy fmells.
Iris there with humid bow,
Waters the odorous banks, that blow
Flowers of more mingled hew
Than her purfled scarf can fhew;
And drenches with Elfian 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 the Cyprian Queen;
But far above in spangled fheen
Celeftial Cupid, her fam'd Son, advanc'd,
Holds his dear Pfyche sweet 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 fworn.
But now my task is fmoothly 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 ye how to climb
Higher than the Sphery Chime;
Or, if virtue feeble were,
Heav'n it felf would ftoop to her.







HIS is the Month, and this the happy Morn,
Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King,
Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
Our great Redemption from above did bring:
For fo the holy Sages once did fing,

That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
And that far beaming blaze of Majesty,

Wherewith he wont at Heav'n's high Council-Table
To fit the midft of Trinal Unity,

He laid afide; and here with us to be,

Forfook the Courts of everlasting Day,

And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.

Say, Heav'nly Mufe, fhall not thy facred vein.
Afford a Prefent to the Infant God?

Haft thou no verfe, no hymn, or folemn ftrain,
To welcome him to this his new abode,

Now while the Heav'n, by the Sun's team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approaching light,

And all the fpangled hoft keep watch in fquadrons bright?


See how from far upon the Eaftern road The Star-led Wizards hafte with odours fweet;

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