Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1617 [Jan 6] (Annals) masque · before the Court unassigned nearest T55 Fairies, fairy queens and enchanted desi · 553 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T55: fairy, fairies, oberon, mopsus, queen, land, grace, babylon, mab, thestylis.
Is seen to come as afar of, accompanied with Grace, Love, Harmony, revel, Sport, Laughter. Let us play, and dance, and sing, let us now turn every sort; O' the pleasures of the Spring, to the graces of a Court. From air, from cloud, from dreams, from toys, to sounds, to sense, to love to joys; Let your shows be new, as strange, let them often and sweetly varie; Let them haste so to their change, as the Seers may not tarry; Too long t' expect the pleasinged sight doth take away from the delight. Yet hear what your delight doth pray all sour and sullen looks away, that are the servants of the day, Our sports are of the humorous night, Who feeds the stars that give her light, and useth (than her want) more bright, to help the vision of DELIGHT. See, see her Sceptre, and her Crown are all of flame, and from her gown a train of light comes waving down. This night in dew she will not steep The brain, nor lock the sense in sleep; but all awake, with Phantomes keep, and those to make DELIGHT more deep. Break Phantasy from thy cave of cloud, and spread thy purple wings; Now all thy figures are allowed, and various shapes of things; Created of airy forms, a stream; it must have blood, and naught of phlegm, And though it be a waking dream; Yet let it like an odour rise to all the Senses here, And fall like sleep upon their eyes, or music in their ear. Bright Night, I obey thee, and am come at thy call But it is no one dream that can please these all; Wherhfore I would know what Dreams would delight'em; For never was Phantasy more loath to affright'em. And Phantasy I tell you has dreams that have wings, And dreams that have honey, and dreams that have stings; Dreams of the maker, and Dreams of the teller, Dreams of the kitchen, and Dreams of the Cellar: Some that are tall, and some that are dwarfs, Some that were haltered, and some that wear scarves; Some that are proper, and signify o' thing, And some another, and some that are nothing: For say the French Verdingale, and the French hood Were here to dispute; must it be understood A feather, for a wisp were a fit moderator? Your Ostrich believe it's no faithful translator Of perfect Utopian; And than it were an od-piece To see the conclusion peep forth at a codpiece. The politic pudding hath still his two ends, Thomas the bellowss, and the bagpipe were never so good friends: And who can report what offence it would be For the Squirrel to see a Dog climb a tree? If a Dream should come in now to make you afeard, With a Windmill on his head, and bells at his beard; Would you straight wear your spectacles, here, at your toes, And your boots o' your brows, and your spurs o' your nose? Your Whale he will swallow, a hogshead for a pill; But the maker o' the mousetrap, is he that hath skill. And the nature of the Onion, is to draw tears, As well as the Mustard; peace, pitchers have ears, And Shitlecocks wings, these things do not mind'em,
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Is ſeene to come as afarre off, accompanied with Grace, Love, Harmonie, Revell, Sport, Laughter. Let us play, and dance, and ſing, let us now turne every ſort; O' the pleaſures of the Spring, to the graces of a Court. From ayre, from cloud, from dreams, from toyes, to ſounds, to ſence, to love to joyes; Let your ſhewes be new, as ſtrange, let them oft and ſweetly varie; Let them haſte ſo to their change, as the Seers may not tarrie; Too long t' expect the pleaſing't ſight doth take away from the delight. Yet heare what your delight doth pray all ſowre and ſullen looks away, that are the ſervants of the day, Our ſports are of the humorous night, Who feeds the ſtars that give her light, and uſeth (then her wont) more bright, to help the viſion of DELIGHT. See, ſee her Scepter, and her Crowne are all of flame, and from her gowne a traine of light comes waving down. This night in dew ſhe will not ſteepe The braine, nor locke the ſence in ſleepe; but all awake, with Phantomes keepe, and thoſe to make DELIGHT more deep. Breake Phant'ſie from thy cave of cloud, and ſpread thy purple wings; Now all thy figures are allow'd, and various ſhapes of things; Create of ayrie formes, a ſtreame; it muſt have bloud, and naught of fleame, And though it be a waking dreame; Yet let it like an odour riſe to all the Sences here, And fall like ſleep upon their eies, or muſick in their eare. Bright Night, I obey thee, and am come at thy call But it is no one dreame that can pleaſe theſe all; Wherefore I would know what Dreames would delight'em; For never was Phant'ſie more loth to affright'em. And Phant'ſie I tell you has dreams that have wings, And dreams that have honey, and dreams that have ſtings; Dreames of the maker, and Dreames of the teller, Dreames of the kitchin, and Dreames of the Cellar: Some that are tall, and ſome that are Dwarffes, Some that were halter'd, and ſome that weare ſcarffes; Some that are proper, and ſignifie o' thing, And ſome another, and ſome that are nothing: For ſay the French Verdingale, and the French hood Were here to diſpute; muſt it be underſtood A feather, for a wiſpe were a fit moderator? Your Oſtritch beleeve it's no faithfull tranſlator Of perfect Utopian; And then it were an od-piece To ſee the concluſion peepe forth at a cod-piece. The politique pudding hath ſtill his two ends, Tho the bellows, and the bag-pipe were nev'r ſo good friends: And who can report what offence it would be For the Squirrell to ſee a Dog clime a tree? If a Dreame ſhould come in now to make you afeard, With a Windmill on his head, and bells at his beard; Would you ſtreight weare your ſpectacles, here, at your toes, And your boots o' your browes, and your ſpurs o' your noſe? Your Whale he will ſwallow, a hogs-head for a pill; But the maker o' the mouſe-trap, is he that hath skill. And the nature of the Onion, is to draw teares, As well as the Muſtard; peace, pitchers have eares, And Shitlecocks wings, theſe things doe not mind'em,