tions, in its sublime dicțion, in its virtuous sentiments. Its few inaccuracies weigh but as dust in the balance against its general merit. And, in short (if I may be allowed respectfully to differ from the high authority of a preceding note), I am of opinion, that this pastoral drama is both grace fully splendid, and delightfully instructive. DR. TODD. L'ALLEGRO. HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven sings; There under ebon shades and low brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. The frolic wind that breathes the spring, Zephyr with Aurora playing, And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee, To live with her, and live with thee, |