| |
| THE STAR that bids the Shepherd fold, | |
| Now the top of Heavn doth hold, | |
| And the gilded Car of Day, | |
| His glowing Axle doth allay | |
| In the steep Atlantick stream, | 5 |
| And the slope Sun his upward beam | |
| Shoots against the dusky Pole, | |
| Pacing toward the other gole | |
| Of his Chamber in the East. | |
| Mean while welcom Joy, and Feast, | 10 |
| Midnight shout, and revelry, | |
| Tipsie dance, and Jollity. | |
| Braid your Locks with rosie Twine | |
| Dropping odours, dropping Wine. | |
| Rigor now is gon to bed, | 15 |
| And Advice with scrupulous head, | |
| Strict Age, and sowre Severity, | |
| With their grave Saws in slumber ly. | |
| We that are of purer fire | |
| Imitate the Starry Quire, | 20 |
| Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears, | |
| Lead in swift round the Months and Years. | |
| The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove | |
| Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice 1 move, | |
| And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves, | 25 |
| Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves; | |
| By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim, | |
| The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim, | |
| Their merry wakes and pastimes keep: | |
| What hath night to do with sleep? | 30 |
| Night hath better sweets to prove, | |
| Venus now wakes, and wakns Love. | |
| Com let us our rights begin, | |
| Tis onely day-light that makes Sin | |
| Which these dun shades will nere report. | 35 |
| Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport | |
| Dark vaild Cotytto, 2 t whom the secret flame | |
| Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame | |
| That nere art calld, but when the Dragon woom | |
| Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom, | 40 |
| And makes one blot of all the ayr, | |
| Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair, | |
| Wherin thou ridst with Hecat, 3 and befriend | |
| Us thy vowd Priests, til utmost end | |
| Of all thy dues be done, and none left out, | 45 |
| Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, | |
| The nice Morn on th Indian steep | |
| From her cabind loop hole 4 peep, | |
| And to the tel-tale Sun discry | |
| Our conceald Solemnity. | 50 |
| Com, knit hands, and beat the ground, | |
| In a light fantastick round. | |