Page:Comus and other poems - Milton (1906).djvu/17



Before the starry threshold of Joves Court My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright aëreal Spirits live insphear'd In Regions milde of calm and serene Ayr, Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot, Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here, Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaverish being Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives After this mortal change, to her true Servants Amongst the enthron'd gods on Sainted seats. Yet som there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on that Golden Key That ope's the Palace of Eternity: To such my errand is, and but for such, I would not soil these pure Ambrosial weeds, With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.
 * But to my task. Neptune besides the sway

Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream, Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove, Rh