74
COMUS
The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes.
Spirit
To the Ocean now I fly,
And those happy climes that ly
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky.
There I suck the liquid ayr
All amidst the Gardens fair
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree:
Along the crisped shades and bowres
Revels the spruce and jocond Spring;
The Graces, and the rosie-boosom’d Howres
Thither all their bounties bring.
That there eternal Summer dwels,
And West winds, with musky wing
About the cedar’n alleys fling
Nard and Cassia’s balmy smels.
Iris there, with humid bow,
And those happy climes that ly
Where day never shuts his eye,
Up in the broad fields of the sky.
There I suck the liquid ayr
All amidst the Gardens fair
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
That sing about the golden tree:
Along the crisped shades and bowres
Revels the spruce and jocond Spring;
The Graces, and the rosie-boosom’d Howres
Thither all their bounties bring.
That there eternal Summer dwels,
And West winds, with musky wing
About the cedar’n alleys fling
Nard and Cassia’s balmy smels.
Iris there, with humid bow,
