Ye sacred[55] bards, that to your harps’ melodious strings
Sung th’ ancient Heroes’ deeds (the monuments of Kings)
And in your dreadul verse ingrav’d the prophecies,
The aged world’s descents and genealogies;
If, as those[56] Druids taught, which kept the British rites,
And dwelt in darksome groves, there counselling with sprites
(But their opinions fail’d, by error led awry,
As since clear truth hath shew’d to their posterity)
When these our souls by death our bodies do forsake,
They instantly again do other bodies take;