404 SIR JOHN DA VIES

The Muse Reviving

LIKE as the divers-fretchled Butterfly,
When winter's frost is fall'n upon his wing,
Hath only left life's possibility,
And lies half dead until the cheerful Spring:

But then the Sun from his all-quick'ning eye
Darts forth a sparkle of the living 6re
Which with kind heat doth warm the frozen fly
And with new spirit his little breast inspire:

Then doth he lightly rise and spread his wings
And with the beams that gave him life doth play:
Tastes every flower that on the earths bosom springs,
And is in busy motion all the day:

So my gay Muse, which did my heart possess,
And in my youthful fantasy doth reign,
Which clear* d my forehead with her cheerfulness
And gave a lively warmth unto my brain,

With sadder study, and with grave conceit
Which late my imagination entertain'd,
Began to shrink and lose her active heat,
And dead as in a lethargy remained.

Long in that senseless sleep congeal'd she lay,
Until even now another heavenly eye,
And clear as that which doth beget the day,
And of a like reviving sympathy,

Did cast into my eyes a subtle beam
Which piercing deep into my fancy went,
And did awake my Muse out of her dream,
And unto her new life and virtue lent;

So that she now begins to raise her eyes,
Which yet are dazzled with her beauty's ray,
And to record her wonted melodies:
Although at first she be not full so gay.