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Orrore Sull Orient Express Pdf

Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape,Crush't the sweet poyson of mis-used WineAfter the Tuscan Mariners transform'dCoasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,On Circes Iland fell (who knows not Circe [ 50 ]The daughter of the Sun? Whose charmed CupWhoever tasted, lost his upright shape,And downward fell into a groveling Swine)This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks,With Ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth, [ 55 ]Had by him, ere he parted thence, a SonMuch like his Father, but his Mother more,Whom therfore she brought up and Comus nam'd,Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age,Roaving the Celtick, and Iberian fields, [ 60 ]At last betakes him to this ominous Wood,And in thick shelter of black shades imbowr'd,Excells his Mother at her mighty Art,Offring to every weary Travailer,His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse, [ 65 ]To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst)Soon as the Potion works, their human count'nance,Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'dInto some brutish form of Woolf, or Bear, [ 70 ]Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat,All other parts remaining as they were,And they, so perfect is their misery,Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,But boast themselves more comely then before [ 75 ]And all their friends, and native home forgetTo roule with pleasure in a sensual sty.Therfore when any favour'd of high Jove,Chances to pass through this adventrous glade,Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star, [ 80 ]I shoot from Heav'n to give him safe convoy,As now I do: But first I must put offThese my skie robes spun out of Iris Wooff,And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain,That to the service of this house belongs, [ 85 ]Who with his soft Pipe, and smooth-dittied Song,Well knows to still the wilde winds when they roar,And hush the waving Woods, nor of lesse faith,And in this office of his Mountain watch,Likeliest, and neerest to the present ayd [ 90 ]Of this occasion. But I hear the treadOf hatefull steps, I must be viewless now.

Orrore Sull Orient Express Pdf

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