Where shall we find relief?
Is there no end of grief?
Is there no comfort left?
What cruel Charms bereft
The patrons of our youth?
We must now beg for ruth.
Enter Obscurity.
Kind pity is the most
Poor boys can hope for, when
Their joys are lost.
Obscurity.
Light, I salute thee; I, Obscurity,
The son of Darkness and forgetful Lethe;
I, that envy thy brightness, greet thee now,
Enforc’d by Fate. Fate makes the strongest bow.
The ever youthful Knights by spells enchain’d,
And long within my shady nooks restrain’d,
Must be enlarged, and I the Usher be
To their night glories; so the Fates agree.
Then, put on life, Obscurity, and prove
As light as light, for awe, if not for love.
Lo! hear their tender year’d, kind-hearted Squires,
Mourning their Master’s loss; no new desires
Can train them from these walks, but here they wend
From shade to shade, and give their toils no end.
But now will I relieve their suffering care.
Hear me, fair Youths! since you so constant are
In faith to your lov’d Knights, go haste apace,
And with your bright lights guide them to this place;
For if you fall directly, that descent,
Their wished approach will farther search prevent.
Haste by the virtue of a charming song,
While I retrieve them, lest they lag too long.
THE CALL, OR SONG OF OBSCURITY.
Appear, Appear, you happy Knights!
Here are several sorts of Lights:
Fire and beauty shine together,
Your slow steps inviting hither.
Come away; and from your eyes
Th’ old shades remove,
For now the Destinies
Release you at the suit of Love.
So, so: ’tis well marched, march apace;
Two by two fill up the place,
And then with voice and measure
Greet the King of Love and Pleasure.
Now, Music, change thy notes, and meet
Aptly with the Dancers’ feet;
For ’tis the pleasure of Delight
That they shall triumph all this night.
THE SONG AND DANCE TOGETHER.
Frolic measures now become you,
Overlong obscured Knights:
What if Lethe did benumb you,
Love now wakes you to delights.
Love is like a golden flower,
Your comely youth adorning:
Pleasure is a gentle shower
Shed in some April morning.
Lightly rise, and lightly fall you
In the motion of your feet:
Move not till our notes do call you;
Music makes the action sweet.
Music breathing blows the fire
Which Cupids feeds with fuel,
Kindling honour and desire,
And taming hearts most cruel.
Quickly, quickly, mend your paces,
Nimbly changing measured graces:
Lively mounted high aspire,
For joy is only found in fire.
Music is the soul of measure,
Mixing both in equal grace;
Twins are they, begot of Pleasure,
When she wisely numbered space.
Nothing is more old or newer
Then number, all advancing;
And no number can be truer
Than music joined with dancing.
Every Knight elect a Beauty,
Such as may thy heart inflame:
Think that her bright eye doth view thee,
And to her thy action frame.
So shall none be faint or weary,
Though treading endless paces;
For they all are light and merry
Whose hopes are fed with graces.
Sprightly, sprightly, end your paces,
Nimbly changing measured graces:
Lively mounted high aspire,
For joy is only found in fire.