 | The choice spirits feast |  |
2
PROLOGUE,
Spoken by Comus.
Amidst this gay Circle, bright beam's the fair Race,
Each Form's rich with Gesture, each Gesture with Grace;
Love laughs in their Looks: Youth blooms in each Cheek,
Sense speaks when they smile, and Wit smiles when they speak.
Gay dress'd Daughters of Beauty, ye Sons of True Taste,
This Evening accept of a Choice Spirits Feast.
Each Form's rich with Gesture, each Gesture with Grace;
Love laughs in their Looks: Youth blooms in each Cheek,
Sense speaks when they smile, and Wit smiles when they speak.
Gay dress'd Daughters of Beauty, ye Sons of True Taste,
This Evening accept of a Choice Spirits Feast.
I've call'd them together, this Sett I've selected,
By Comus this Evening Collation's directed;
Great Bacchus the gay God of Bumper's my Sire,
Great Bacchus the Fuel and Life of Love's Fire;
Who bestows on the Lover Assurance to try,
And drowns in the Lady all Force to deny.
From him I'm descended, and thus spoke my Father,
Go; call the chief Sons of True Humour together.
Let Harmony usher the Things they shall say,
Be Laughter attendant, and Wit prompt the Play;
But banish low Quibble, and Sing-song impure,
Poor personal Satire, Entendres obscure.
Let not Ribaldry dare to offend the chaste Ear,
Nor Dullness, tho' even in Op'ra, appear;
Let Mirth by the Side of plain Sense take her Place,
And the Comic Muse smile undebauch'd by Grimace;
Do not stamp the Buffoon on the Sterling of Nature,
But the Sense of each Song be express'd in each Feature.
'Twas thus he commanded, I this had to say,
Come, Lads, let me see you know how to obey;
Ye social, harmonious Choice Spirits begin,
A Moment be silent, ye Fair, while they sing.
By Comus this Evening Collation's directed;
Great Bacchus the gay God of Bumper's my Sire,
Great Bacchus the Fuel and Life of Love's Fire;
Who bestows on the Lover Assurance to try,
And drowns in the Lady all Force to deny.
From him I'm descended, and thus spoke my Father,
Go; call the chief Sons of True Humour together.
Let Harmony usher the Things they shall say,
Be Laughter attendant, and Wit prompt the Play;
But banish low Quibble, and Sing-song impure,
Poor personal Satire, Entendres obscure.
Let not Ribaldry dare to offend the chaste Ear,
Nor Dullness, tho' even in Op'ra, appear;
Let Mirth by the Side of plain Sense take her Place,
And the Comic Muse smile undebauch'd by Grimace;
Do not stamp the Buffoon on the Sterling of Nature,
But the Sense of each Song be express'd in each Feature.
'Twas thus he commanded, I this had to say,
Come, Lads, let me see you know how to obey;
Ye social, harmonious Choice Spirits begin,
A Moment be silent, ye Fair, while they sing.
| The choice spirits feast | |