L'ALLEGRO. HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desart ever dwell. In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne, And by Men, heart-easing Mirth; The frolick wind, that breathes the spring, As he met her once a-Maying; And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, And in thy right hand lead with thee To live with her, and live with thee, To hear the lark begin his flight, While the cock, with lively din, |