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270 To be with juice of cedar wash'd all over; Here words with lines and lines with scenes consent To raise an act to full astonishment; Here melting numbers, words of power to move Young men to swoon and maids to die for love. Love lies a-bleeding here, Evadne, there Swells with brave rage, yet comely everywhere; Here's A mad lover, there that high design Of King and no King, and the rare plot thine. So that whene'er we circumvolve our eyes, Such rich, such fresh, such sweet varieties Ravish our spirits, that entranc'd we see None writes love's passion in the world like thee.

Charon, O Charon, draw thy boat to th' shore, And to thy many take in one soul more. Who calls? who calls? Euc. One overwhelm'd with ruth; Have pity either on my tears or youth, And take me in who am in deep distress; But first cast off thy wonted churlishness. I will be gentle as that air which yields A breath of balm along the Elysian fields.