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Sun. We must descend, and leave awhile our

sphere, To greet the world.—Ha? there does now appear A circle in this round, of beams that shine As if their friendly lights would darken mine: No, let them shine out still, for these are they, By whose sweet favours, when our warmths decay, Even in the storms of winter, daily nourish Our active motions, which in summer flourish, By their fair quick’ning dews of noble loves : Oh, may you all, like stars, whilst swift time

moves, Stand fix'd in firmaments of blest content! Meanwhile [the] recreations we present, Shall strive to please :- I have the foremost

tract'; Each Season else begins and ends an Act.

[The Sun disappears.

5. We must descend, &c.] The “sphere” in which the “lord of Light” appeared, was probably a creaking throne which overlooked the curtain at the back of the stage; from this he probably descended to the raised platform. Besides his robe, flammas imitante pyropo, his solar majesty was probably distinguished by a tiara, or rayed coronet,- but this is no subject for light merriment. Whatever his SHAPE might be, his address to the audience of the Cockpit is graceful, elegant, and poetical. I believe it to be the composition of Decker.


The Garden of SPRING.



Spring. Welcome! The mother of the


the Spring, That mother, on whose back Age ne'er can sit, For Age still waits on her; that Spring, the nurse Whose milk the Summer sucks, and is inade

wanton; Physician to the sick, strength to the sound, By whom all things above and under-ground Are quieken'd with new heat, fresh blood, brave

vigour, That Spring, on thy fair cheeks, in kisses lays Ten thousand welcomes, free as are those rays, From which thy name thou borrow'st; glorious

name, RAYBRIGHT, as bright in person as in fame!

Ray. Your eyes amazed me first, but now mine


Feel your tongue's charm; in you move all the


Oh, lady! would the Sun, which gave me life,
Had never sent me to you!

Spring. Why? all my veins
Shrink up, as if cold Winter were come back,
And with his frozen beard had numb’d my lips,
To hear that sigh fly from you.

Ray. Round about me
A firmament of such full blessings shine,
I, in your sphere, seem a star more divine,
Than in


father's chariot, should I ride One year about the world in all his pride. Spring. Oh, that sweet breath revives me; if

thou never Part'st hence, (as part thou shalt not,) be happy

ever! Ray. I know I shall.

Spring. Thou, to buy whose state Kings would lay down their crowns, fresh Youth,

wait, I charge thee, on my darling.

Youth. Madam, I shall, And on his smooth cheek such sweet roses set, You still shall sit to gather them; and when Their colours fade, slike] brave shall spring again. Spring. Thou, without whom they that have

hills of gold Are slaves and wretches, Health! that canst nor

be sold Nor bought, I charge thee make his heart a

tower Guarded, for there lies the Spring's paramour.

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Health. One of my bands is writing still in

Heaven, For that's Health's library; t’ other on the Earth, Is physic's treasurer, and what wealth those lay Up for my queen, all shall his will obey.

Ray. Mortality sure falls from me.

Spring. Thou! to whose tunes The five nice senses dance; thou, that dost spin Those golden threads all women love to wind, And but for whom, man would cut off mankind, Delight!.not base, but noble, touch thy lyre, And fill my court with brightest Delphic fire.

Del. Hover, you wing'd musicians, in the air! Clouds, leave your dancing ! no winds stir but fair!

Health. Leave blustering March

Song by DELIGHT.
What bird so sings, yet so does wail ?
'Tis Philomel, the nightingale ;

What bird, fc.] This is taken from the beautiful song

of Trico, in Lily's “ Alexander and Campaspe. It will be seen from the original, which is subjoined, that it has received no improvements from Delight.

“What bird so sings, yet so does wail?

O ! 'tis the ravish'd nightingale.
Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu she cryes,
And still her woes at midnight rise,
Brave prick-song! who is't now we hear?
None but the lark so shrill and clear;
How at heaven's gates she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.
Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat,
Poor robin red-breast tunes his note;
Hark, how the jolly cuckoes sing,
Cuckor! to welcome in the spring."

Jugg, jugg, jugg, terue she cries,
And, hating earth, to heaven she flies.

[The cuckow is heard. Ha, ha! hark, hark! the cuckows sing

Cuckow, to welcome in the Spring.
Brave prick-song! who is't now we hear?
'Tis the lark's silver leer-a-leer.
Chirup the sparrow flies away;
For he fell to't cre break of day.

[The cuckow again. Ha, ha! hark, hark! the cuckows sing Cuckow! to welcome in the Spring.

Spring. How does my sun-born sweetheart like


queen, Her court, her train ?

Ray. Wondrous; such ne'er were seen.
Health. Fresher and fresher pastimes! one de-

light Is a disease to th’ wanton appetite. Del. Music, take Echo's voice, and dance quick

rounds To thine own times in repercussive sounds.

[An echo of Cornets. Spring. Enough! I will not weary thee.

[Erit Del. Pleasures, change! Thou, as the Sun in a free zodiac range.

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