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And ſent them here through hard aſſays
With a crowne of deathleſſe Praiſe,
To triumph in victorious dance
Ore ſenſuall Folly, and Intemperance.
The dances ended, the Spirit Epilogizes.
Spir. To the Ocean now I flie,
And thoſe happie climes that lie
Where day never ſhuts his eye,
Vp in the broad fields of the skie:
There I ſuck the liquid ayre
All amidſt the gardens faire
Of Heſperus, and his daughters three
That ſing about the golden tree,
Along the criſped ſhades, and bowres
Revells the ſpruce and jocond Spring,
The Graces, and the roſie-boſom'd Howres
Thither all their bounties bring,
That there æternall Summer dwells
And weſt winds, with muskie wing
About the cedar'n alleys fling
Nard, and Caßia's balmie ſmells.
Iris there with humid bow
Waters the odorous banks that blow
Flowers of more mingled hew
Then her purfl'd ſcarfe can ſhew,
And drenches with Elyſian dew
(Liſt mortalls, if your eares be true)
Beds of Hyacinth, and roſes)
Where young Adonis oft repoſes,
Waxing well of his deepe wound
In ſlumber ſoft, and on the ground
