into great ingowes and to wedges square;
some in round plates withouten moniment;

but most were stampt, and in their metal bare the antique shapes of kings and kesars straung and rare. E. SPENSER

1251

THE HOUSE OF MORPHEUS

E, making speedy way through spersed ayre,

to Morpheus' house doth speedily repaire:
amid the bowels of the Earth full steepe,
and low, where dawning day doth never peepe,
his dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe
in silver dew his ever-drouping head,

while sad Night over him her mantle black doth spread.

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,
the one faire framed of burnisht yvory,
the other, all with silver overcast;

and wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye,
watching to banish Care, their enimy,
who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe:
by them the sprite doth pass in quietly,

and unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe in drowsie fit he finds; of nothing he takes keepe.

And more to lull him in his slumber soft,

a trickling stream from high rock tumbling downe, and ever drizzling raine upon the loft,

mixt with a murmuring wind, much like the sowne of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne; no other noyse, no people's troublous cryes, as still are wont to annoy the walled towne, might there be heard, but carelesse Quiet lyes wrapt in eternal silence farre from enimyes.

1252

TH

THE GRACES

E. SPENSER

HEY are the daughters of sky-ruling Jove,
by him begot of faire Eurynome,

the Oceans daughter, in this pleasant grove,
as he, this way comming from feastful glee
of Thetis wedding with Aecidee,

in sommers shade him selfe here rested weary:
the first of them hight mylde Euphrosyne,
next faire Aglaia, last Thalia merry;

sweete Goddesses all three, which me in mirth do cherry!
These three on men all gracious gifts bestow,
which decke the body or adorne the mynde,
to make them lovely or wellfavoured show;
as comely carriage, entertainement kynde,
sweete semblaunt, friendly offices that bynde,
and all the complements of curtesie:

they teach us how to each degree and kynde
we should our selves demeane, to low, to hie,
to friends, to foes; which skill men call Civility.
Therefore they alwaies smoothly seeme to smile,
that we likewise should mylde and gentle be;
and also naked are, that without guile

or false dissemblaunce all them plaine may see,
simple and true, from covert malice free;

and eeke them selves so in their daunce they bore,
that two of them still froward seemed to bee,

but one still towards shewed her selfe afore;

that good should from us goe, then come, in greater store.

1253

MOUNT ACIDALE

E. SPENSER

T was an hill plaste in an open plaine,

of matchlesse hight, that seemd th' earth to disdaine; in which all trees of honour stately stood, and did all winter, as in sommer bud, spredding pavilions for the birds to bowre, which in their lower braunches sung aloud; and in their tops the soring hauke did towre, sitting like King of fowles in majesty and powre: and at the foote thereof a gentle flud

his silver waves did softly tumble downe,
unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud;

ne mote wylde beastes, ne mote the ruder clowne,
thereto approach; ne filth mote therein drowne:
but Nymphes and Faeries by the bancks did sit
in the wood's shade, which did the waters crowne,
keeping all noysome things away from it,

and to the waters fall tuning their accents fit.

And on the top thereof a spacious plaine
did spred itselfe, to serve to all delight,

either to daunce, when they to daunce would faine,
or else to course about their bases light;
ne ought there wanted which for pleasure might
desired be, or thence to banish bale:

so pleasauntly the hill with equall hight
did seeme to overlooke the lowly vale;
therefore it rightly cleeped was Mount Acidale.

E. SPENSER

1254

THE COMMENCEMENT OF SPRING

FROM the moist meadow to the withered hill,

led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs,
and swells and deepens, to the cherished eye:
the hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves
put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,
till the whole leafy forest stands displayed,
in full luxuriance, to the sighing gales;
where the deer rustle through the twining brake,
and the birds sing concealed. At once arrayed
in all the colours of the flushing year,

by Nature's swift and secret-working hand,
the garden glows and fills the liberal air

with lavish fragrance; while the promised fruit

lies yet a little embryo, unperceived,

within its crimson folds. Now from the town,
buried in smoke and sleep and noisome damps,

oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields,

where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops

from the bent bush, as through the verdant maze of sweet-briar hedges I pursue my walk;

or taste the smell of dairy; or ascend

some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains,
and see the country, far diffused around,

one boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower
of mingled blossoms; where the raptured eye
hurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath

the fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies.

J. THOMSON

1255

DESCRIPTION OF A CITY SHOWER

AREFUL observers may foretell the hour

CA

by sure prognostics when to dread a shower; while rain depends, the pensive cat gives o'er her frolics, and pursues her tail no more: returning home at night, you'll find the sink strike your offended sense with double stink: if you be wise, then go not far to dine; you'll spend in coach-hire more than save in wine. A coming shower your shooting corns presage; old aches will throb, your hollow tooth will rage; sauntering in coffee-house is Dulman seen; he damns the climate, and complains of spleen. Meanwhile the South, rising with dabbled wings, a sable cloud athwart the welkin flings, that swilled more liquor than it could contain, and, like a drunkard, gives it up again. Brisk Susan whips her linen from the rope, while the first drizzling shower is borne aslope; such is that sprinkling, which some careless quean flirts on you from her mop, but not so clean: you fly, invoke the gods; then turning stop to rail; she singing still whirls on her mop. Not yet the dust had shunned the unequal strife, but, aided by the wind, fought still for life, and wafted with its foe by violent gust, 'twas doubtful which was rain and which was dust. 1256 Now in contiguous drops the flood comes down, threatening with deluge this devoted town: to shops in crowds the daggled females fly, pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy. The templar spruce, while every spout's abroach, stays till 'tis fair, yet seems to call a coach; the tucked-up semstress walks with hasty strides, while streams run down her oiled umbrella's sides: here various kinds, by various fortunes led, commence acquaintance underneath a shed: triumphant tories and desponding whigs forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs. Boxed in a chair the beau impatient sits, while spouts run clattering o'er the roofs by fits; and ever and anon with frightful din

the leather sounds; he trembles from within.
Now from all parts the swelling kennels flow,
and bear their trophies with them as they go:
filths of all hues and odours seem to tell

what street they sailed from, by their sight and smell: they, as each torrent drives with rapid force, from Smithfield to St 'Pulcre's shape their course; and in huge confluence joined at Snowhill ridge, fall from the conduit prone to Holborn bridge: sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts and blood, drowned puppies, stinking sprats, all drenched in mud, dead cats and turnip-tops come tumbling down the flood. J. SWIFT 1257 TREES AND PLANTS, EVIDENCEs of divine

I

WISDOM

KNOW not why the beech delights the glade with boughs extended and a rounder shade;

whilst towering firs in conic forms arise

and with a pointed spear divide the skies;
nor why again the changing oak should shed
the yearly honour of his stately head;
while the distinguished yew is ever seen
unchanged his branch, and permanent his green.
Wanting the sun, why does the caltha fade?
why does the cypress flourish in the shade?
the fig and date, why love they to remain
in middle station, and an even plain;
while in the lower marsh the gourd is found,
and while the hill with olive-shade is crowned?
Why does one climate and one soil endue
the blushing poppy with a crimson hue,

yet leave the lily pale, and tinge the violet blue?
Whence has the tree, resolve me, or the flower
a various instinct or a different power?

why should one earth, one clime, one stream, one breath,
raise this to strength, and sicken that to death?
Along the sunny bank or watery mead

ten thousand stalks their varied blossoms spread;
peaceful and lowly in their native soil

they neither know to spin nor care to toil;
yet with confessed magnificence deride
our vile attire and impotence of pride.

M. PRIOR