APPENDIX 
161 
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, 
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims, 
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves, 
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, 
Being lass-lorn ; thy pole-clipt vineyard ; 
And thy sea-marge, sterile, and rocky-hard, 
Where thou thyself dost air : the queen o’ the sky 
Whose watery arch and messenger am I, 
Bids thee leave these ; and with her sovereign grace, 
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, 
To come and sport; her peacocks fly amain : 
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain. 
Enter Ceres. 
Cer. Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne’er 
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter ; 
Who, with thy saffron wings upon my flowers 
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers, 
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown 
My bosky acres, and my unshrubb’d down, 
Rich scarf to my proud earth ; why hath thy queen 
Summon’d me hither, to this short-grass’d green ? 
IV. i. 60. 
Cer . Earth’s increase, foison plenty, 
Barns and garners never empty: 
Vines, with clustering bunches growing : 
Plants, with goodly burthen bowing : 
Spring come to you, at the farthest 
In the very end of harvest ! 
Scarcity and want shall shun you ; 
Ceres’ blessing so is on you. 
IV. i. no. 
Iris. You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks, 
With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks, 
Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land 
Answer your summons; Juno does command : 
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate 
A contract of true love ; be not too late. 
Enter certain Nymphs. 
You sun-burnt sicklemen, of August weary, 
Come hither from the furrow and be merry : 
Make holiday ; your rye-straw hats put on 
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one 
In country footing. IV, i. 130. 
II 
