One leaf of this is immortality,
And more of worth than all the world can buy.
One doubt remains, faid I, the dames in green,
What were their qualities, and who their queen?
Flora commands, faid fhe, those nymphs and knights,
Who liv'd in flothful ease and loose delights;
Who never acts of honour durft purfue,
The men inglorious knights, the ladies all untrue:
Who, nurs'd in idlenefs, and train'd in courts,
Pafs'd all their precious hours in plays and sports,
Till death behind came ftalking on, unfeen,
And wither'd (like the ftorm) the freshness of their green
These, and their mates, enjoy their present hour,
And therefore pay their homage to the flower.
But knights in knightly deeds should persevere,
And ftill continue what at firft they were;
Continue, and proceed in honour's fair career.
No room for cowardice, or dull delay;
From good to better they should urge their way.
For this with golden fpurs the chiefs are grac'd,
With pointed rowels arm'd to mend their haste;
For this with lafting leaves their brows are bound;
For laurel is the fign of labour crown'd,
Which bears the bitter blaft, nor fhaken falls to ground:
From winter winds it fuffers no decay,
For ever fresh and fair, and every month is May.
Ev'n when the vital fap retreats below,
Ev'n when the hoary head is hid in fnow;
The life is in the leaf, and still between
The fits of falling fnow appears the streaky green.
Not fo the flower, which lafts for little space,
A fhort-liv'd good, and an uncertain grace;
This way and that the feeble ftem is driven,
Weak to fuftain the ftorms and injuries of heaven.
Propp'd by the fpring, it lifts aloft the head,
But of a fickly beauty, foon to fhed;
In fummer living, and in winter dead.
For things of tender kind, for pleasure made,
Shoot up
with fwift increafe, and fudden are decay'd. With humble words, the wifeft I could frame, And proffer'd fervice, I repaid the dame;
That, of her grace, she gave her maid to know
The fecret meaning of this moral show.
And he, to prove what profit I had made
Of myftic truth, in fables first convey'd,
Demanded till the next returning May,
Whether the leaf or flower I would obey?
I chose the leaf; fhe fmil'd with fober chear,
And wish'd me fair adventure for the year,
And gave me charms and figils, for defence
Against ill tongues that fcandal innocence:
But I, faid fhe, my fellows must purfue,
Already paft the plain, and out of view.
We parted thus; I homeward sped my way,
Bewilder'd in the wood till dawn of day:
And met the merry crew who danc'd about the May.
Then late refresh'd with fleep, I rose to write
The vifionary vigils of the night:
Blush, as thou may'st, my little book, with shame,
Nor hope with homely verfe to purchase fame;
For fuch thy Maker chofe and fo defign'd
Thy fimple file to fuit thy lowly kind.
N days of old, when Arthur fill'd the throne,
Whofe acts and fame to foreign lands were blown ; The king of elfs and little fairy queen
Gambol'd on heaths, and danc'd on every green;
And where the jolly troop had led the round,
The grafs unbidden rose, and mark'd the ground:
Nor darkling did they glance, the filver light
Of Phoebe ferv'd to guide their steps aright,
And, with their tripping pleas'd, prolong the night.
Her beams they follow'd, where at full the plaid,
Nor longer than she shed her horns they staid,
From thence with airy flight to foreign lands convey'd.
Above the reft our Britain held they dear,
More folemnly they kept their fabbaths here,
And made more spacious rings, and revel'd half the
I speak of ancient times, for now the swain
Returning late may pass the woods in vain,
And never hope to see the nightly train:
In vain the dairy now with mint is dress'd,
The dairy-maid expects no fairy guest,
To fkim the bowls, and after pay the feast.
She fighs, and fshakes her empty fhoes in vain,
No filver penny to reward her pain:
For priests, with prayers and other goodly geer,
Have made the merry goblins disappear;
And where they play'd their merry pranks before,
Have sprinkled holy water on the floor :
And friars that through the wealthy regions run,
Thick as the motes that twinkle in the fun,
Refort to farmers rich, and bless their halls,
And exorcife the beds, and cross the walls:
This makes the fairy quires forfake the place,
When once 'tis hallow'd with the rites of grace :
But in the walks where wicked elves have been,
The learning of the parish now is seen,
The midnight parfon pofting o'er the green,
With
gown tuck'd up, to wakes, for Sunday next,
With humming ale encouraging his text;
Nor wants the holy leer to country-girl betwixt.
From fiends and imps he fets the village free,
There haunts not any incubus but he.
The maids and women need no danger fear
To walk by night, and fanctity fo near :
For by fome haycock, or some shady thorn,
He bids his beads both even fong and morn.
It fo befel in this king Arthur's reign,
A lufty knight was pricking o'er the plain;
A bachelor he was, and of the courtly train..
It happen'd, as he rode, a damfel gay
In ruffet robes to market took her way:
Soon on the girl he caft an amorous eye,
So ftraight the walk'd, and on her pafterns high:
If seeing her behind he lik'd her pace,
Now turning fhort, he better likes her face.
He lights in hafte, and, full of youthful fire,
By force accomplish'd his obfcene defire:
This done, away he rode, not unespy'd,
For fwarming at his back the country cry'd:
And once in view they never loft the fight,
But feiz'd, and pinion'd brought to court the knight.
Then courts of kings were held in high renown,
Ere made the common brothels of the town:
There, virgins honourable vows receiv'd,
But chafte as maids in monafteries liv'd :
The king himself, to nuptial ties a slave,
No bad example to his poets gave :
And they, not bad, but in a vicious age,
Had not, to please the prince, debauch'd the stage.
Now what should Arthur do? He lov'd the knight,
But fovereign monarchs are the fource of right:
Mov'd by the damfel's tears and common cry,
He doom'd the brutal ravifher to die.
But fair Geneura rofe in his defence,
And pray'd fo hard for mercy from the prince,
That to his queen the king th' offender gave,
And left it in her power to kill or fave:
This gracious act the ladies all approve,
Who thought it much a man fhould die for love;
And with their mistress join'd in close debate
(Covering their kindness with dissembled hate),
If not to free him, to prolong his fate.
At laft agreed they call'd him by confent
Before the queen and female parliament.
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