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Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works

in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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I.

Wake Goddess wake Thy drousy Lyre
Let the neglected Chords to louder Strains be strung,
And raise Thy voice, and swell thy numbers higher,
No common Theme requires Thy Song

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For loe! from old Eternities glad Womb
The promis'd day, the glorious Birth is come:
'Tis come; the noble Babe securely lies
On his fair Mothers joyful breast;
(Happy his Age whose Infancy enjoys
A Seat of Plenty and a Heav'n of rest.)
But Oh! what Clouds of glory, clouds of light
Too strong for feeble Mans external Eye
Roll round the noble Babe, and mock my drowned sight:
That Light, that glory I wou'd see;
Hear, Goddess, hear thy Votary
The meanest of thy Sons inspire
Come to my breast, and with Thy pow'rful ray
Drive dimm humanity away
Wake, Goddess, wake thy Lyre.