JOHN MILTON

Som times with secure delight

The up-land Hamlets will invite,

When the merry Bells ring round,

And the jocond rebecks sound

To many a youth, and many a maid,

Dancing in the Chequer' d shade ;

And young and old com forth to play

On a Sunshine Holyday,

Till the live-long day-light fail,

Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale,

With stories told of many a feat,

How Faery Mab the junkets eat,

She was pincht, and pulPd she sed,

And he by Friars Lanthorn led

Tells how the drudging Goblin swet,

To ern his Cream-bowle duly set,

When in one night, ere glimps of morn,

His shadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corn

That ten day-labourers could not end,

Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend,

And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength ;

And Crop-full out of dores he flings,

Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.

Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,

By whispering Windes soon lull'd asleep.

Towred Cities please us then, And the busie humm of men, Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold, In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold, With store of Ladies, whose bright eies Rain influence, and judge the prise Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend

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