Ray. To any one, that knows you not, it is.
Priest. You must avoid.

indeed, la!

Fol. Away, away! I have no such meaning, [Music of Recorders. Priest. Hark! the fair hour is come; draw to the altar,

And, with amazement, reverence and comfort, Behold the broad eyed lamp of heaven descending! Stand!

The SUN

appears above.

Fol. Oh, brave!

Priest. Stand.

SONG.

Glorious and bright! lo, here we bend
Before thy throne, trembling, attend
Thy sacred pleasures: be pleas'd then
To shower thy comforts down, that men
May freely taste, in life's extremes,
The influence of thy powerful beams.+

Ray. Let not my fate too swiftly run,
Till thou acknowledge me thy son;
Oh! there's no joy even from the womb
Of frailty, till we be call'd home.

+ The influence of thy powerful beams.] For beams, the old copy reads dreams,-an evident mis-print; of which there are far too many in this piece. `

Fol. Now am I an arrant rascal, and cannot speak one word for myself, if I were hanged.

Sun. Raybright!

Priest. It calls you; answer.

Ray. Lord and Father!

Sun. We know thy cares; appear to give release:

Boldly make thy demands, for we will please
To grant whate'er thou su'st for.

Ray. Fair-beam'd sir!

I dare not greedily prefer
Eternity of Earth's delights,
Before that duty which invites
My filial piety in this

Your love shall perfect my heart's bliss,

If I but for one only year,

Enjoy the several pleasures here,

Which every season in his kind,
Can bless a mortal with.

Sun. I find

Thy reason breeds thy appetite, and grant it;
Thou master'st thy desire, and shalt not want it.
To the Spring garden let him be convey'd,
And entertain'd there by that lovely maid;
All the varieties the Spring can show,

Be subject to his will.

-Priest. Light's lord! we go.

[Exeunt PRIEST and RAYBRIGHT.

Fol. And I will follow, that am not in love with

such fopperies.

[Exit.

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.

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 made

wanton;

Physician to the sick, strength to the sound,
By whom all things above and under-ground
Are quicken'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

ears

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

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 my 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, [like] 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.