Draw the barren heifer back:
Barren let her be, and black.
Cut the curled hair that grows

Full betwixt her horns and brows.
And turn your faces from the sun.—
Answer me, if this be done.

Chor. 'Tis done.

Tir. Pour in blood, and blood-like wine,
To mother Earth and Proserpine;
Mingle milk into the stream;

Feast the ghosts that love the steam:
Snatch a brand from funeral pile;
Toss it in to make them boil:

And turn your faces from the sun.---
Answer me, if all be done.

Chor. All is done.

Song.

1. Hear, ye sullen powers below!
Hear, ye taskers of the dead!
2. You that boiling cauldrons blow!

You that scum the molten lead!
3. You that pinch with red-hot tongs!
1. You that drive the trembling hosts
Of poor poor ghosts

With your sharpened prongs!

2. You that thrust them off the brim!

3. You that plunge them when they swim

1. Till they drown;

Till they go

On a row

Down, down, down,

Ten thousand, thousand, thousand fathoms low

Chor. Till they drown, &c.

1. Music for a while

2.

Shall your cares beguile:

Wondering how your pains were eased!
And disdaining to be pleased!

3. Till Alecto free the dead

From their eternal bands;

Till the snakes drop from her head,
And whip from out her hands.

1. Come away,

Do not stay,

But obey,

While we play,

For hell's broke up, and ghosts have holiday. Chor. Come away, &c.

Tir.

1. Laius! 2. Laius! 3. Laius!

1. Hear! 2. Hear! 3. Hear!

Chor.

Hear and appear!

By the Fates that spun thy thread!

Which are three

Tir. By the Furies fierce and dread!
Chor. Which are three-

Tir. By the judges of the dead!

Chor.

Which are three

Three times three

Tir. By hell's blue flame!

By the Stygian lake!

And by Demogorgon's name
At which ghosts quake!
Hear and appear!

HARVEST HOME.

Comus. YOUR hay it is mowed, and your corn is

reaped:

Your barns will be full, and your hovels heaped:

Come, my boys, come;

Come, my boys, come;

And merrily roar out harvest home!
Harvest home,

Harvest home;

And merrily roar out harvest home!

Chor. Come, my boys, come, &c.

1. We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again, For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?

One in ten,

One in ten;

For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten,

2. For prating so long like a book-learned sot, Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot, Burn to pot,

Burn to pot,

Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot?
Chor. Burn to pot, &c.

3. We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
And hoigh for the honour of Old England;
Old England,

Old England;

And hoigh for the honour of Old England.
Chor. Old England, &c.

INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

Absence, hear thou my protestation,

Adieu, farewell earth's bliss,

Ah, Ben! Say how or when,

Ah, fading joy! how quickly art thou past!
Ah! I remember well (and how can I,

Ah! my Lord, leave me not,

Ah, sweet Content! where is thy mild abode?
Ah, were she pitiful as she is fair,

All my past life is mine no more,
All the flowers of the spring,
All ye that lovely lovers be,
And wilt thou leave me thus?

Are they shadows that we see?

A rose, as fair as ever saw the North,

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?

As I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow, 103

Ask me no more where Jove bestows,

-

- 219

Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints, whose bones, - 197
A very phoenix in her radiant eyes,

Ay me, poor soul, whom bound in sinful chains,

Be a merchant, I will freight thee, -

Beauty clear and fair,

Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew,

Behold, out walking in these valleys,

Bid me to live, and I will live,

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Born was I to be old,

- 63
- 162

-

112

Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit,

Brown is my love, but graceful,

Buzz! quoth the Blue-fly,

By a fountain where I lay,

Page

- 97

- 75

- 123

- 78

By the moon we sport and play,

Call for the robin redbreast and the wren,

Calm was the day, and through the trembling air,
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes,
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, -

Choose the darkest part o' the grove,
Clear Ankor, on whose silver-sanded shore,
Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain,
Cold winter ice is fled and gone,

- 168

146
18

- 95
- 155

- 210

264

- 98
- 109

Come, let's begin to revel it out,

Come, list and hark,

- 163

Come away, come away, death,

- 85

Come away, come, sweet love!

- 75

Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me,
Come, come away! the spring,

- 130

- 227

- 165

- 108

65

50

- 169

- 139

- 253

- 119

Come, little babe, come, silly soul, -

Cupid and my Campaspe played, -

Dare you haunt our hallowed green?

Dear chorister, who from those shadows sends,
Dear, from thine arms then let me fly,

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee,
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow,
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
Drop, drop, slow tears,

Even such is time, that takes in trust,
Eye of the garden, queen of flowers,

Fain I would, but oh I dare not,
Fain would I change that note,
Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
Fair daffodils, we weep to see,
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,

Fair stood the wind for France,

- 156

122
- 160

45

- 104

- 166

- 163

- 56

- 214

- 213

- 99