Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense,
        And in sweet madness rob'd it of it self,
        But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,
        Such sober certainty of waking bliss
        I never heard till now. Ile speak to her
        And she shall be my Queen. Hail forren wonder
        Whom certain these rough shades did never breed
        Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall shrine
        Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song
        Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog
        To touch the prosperous growth of this tall Wood.
          La. Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise
        That is addrest to unattending Ears,
        Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift
        How to regain my sever'd company
        Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
        To give me answer from her mossie Couch.
          Co. What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?
          La. Dim darknes, and this leavy Labyrinth.
          Co. Could that divide you from neer-ushering guides?
          La. They left me weary on a grassie terf.
          Co. By falshood, or discourtesie, or why?
          La. To seek i'th vally som cool friendly Spring.
          Co. And left your fair side all unguarded Lady?
          La. They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return.
          Co. Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them.
          La. How easie my misfortune is to hit!
          Co. Imports their loss, beside the present need?
          La. No less then if I should my brothers loose.
          Co. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
          La. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips.
          Co. Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe
        In his loose traces from the furrow came,
        And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate;
        I saw them under a green mantling vine
        That crawls along the side of yon small hill,
        Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,
        Their port was more then human, as they stood;
        I took it for a faery vision
        Of som gay creatures of the element
        That in the colours of the Rainbow live
        And play i'th plighted clouds. I was aw-strook,
        And as I past, I worshipt: if those you seek
        It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,
        To help you find them. La. Gentle villager
        What readiest way would bring me to that place?
          Co. Due west it rises from this shrubby point.
          La. To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose,
        In such a scant allowance of Star-light,
        Would overtask the best Land-Pilots art,
        Without the sure guess of well-practiz'd feet.
          Co. I know each lane, and every alley green
        Dingle, or bushy dell of this wilde Wood,
        And every bosky bourn from side to side
        My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,
        And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd,
        Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
        Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark
        From her thatch't pallat rowse, if otherwise
        I can conduct you Lady to a low
        But loyal cottage, where you may be safe
        Till further quest'. La. Shepherd I take thy word,
        And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie,
        Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds
        With smoaky rafters, then in tapstry Halls
        And Courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd,
        And yet is most pretended: In a place
        Less warranted then this, or less secure
        I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
        Eie me blest Providence, and square my triall
        To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd lead on.-

                          The Two Brothers

          Eld. Bro. Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair Moon
        That wontst to love the travailers benizon,
        Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,
        And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here
        In double night of darknes, and of shades;
        Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
        With black usurping mists, som gentle taper
        Though a rush Candle from the wicker hole
        Of som clay habitation visit us
        With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light,
        And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,
        Or Tyrian Cynosure.  2.Bro.  Or if our eyes
        Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear
        The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
        Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,
        Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock
        Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,
        'Twould be som solace yet, som little chearing
        In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes.
        But O that haples virgin our lost sister
        Where may she wander now, whether betake her
        From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles?
        Perhaps som cold bank is her boulster now
        Or'gainst the rugged bark of som broad Elm
        Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears.
        What if in wild amazement, and affright,