JOHN MILTON

As may with sweetnes, through mine ear,

Dissolve me into extasies,

And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.

And may at last my weary age

Find out the peacefull hermitage,

The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,

Where I may sit and rightly spell

Of every Star that Heav'n doth shew,

And every Herb that sips the dew;

Till old experience do attain

To somthing like Prophetic strain.

These pleasures Melancholy give,

And I with thee will choose to live.

��O

��312. From * 'Arcades'

j'RE the smooth enameld green Where no print of step hath been,

Follow me as I sing,

And touch the warbled string. Under the shady roof Of branching Elrn Star-proof,

Follow me,

I will bring you where she sits Clad in splendor as befits

Her deity. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen.

��From 313. i

HTHE Star that bids the Shepherd fold,

• Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,

�� �