Now the top of Heav'n doth hold
And the gilded Car of Day
His glowing Axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantick stream
And the slope Sun his upward beam
Shoots against the dusky Pole
Pacing toward the other gole
Of his Chamber in the East.
Mean while welcom Joy and Feast
Midnight shout and revelry
Tipsie dance and Jollity.
Braid your Locks with rosie Twine
Dropping odours dropping Wine.
Rigor now is gon to bed
And Advice with scrupulous head
Strict Age and sowre Severity
With their grave Saws in slumber ly.
We that are of purer fire
Imitate the Starry Quire
Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears
Lead in swift round the Months and Years.
The Sounds and Seas with all their finny drove
Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move
And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves
Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves；
By dimpled Brook and Fountain brim
The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep：
What hath night to do with sleep？
Night hath better sweets to prove
Venus now wakes and wak'ns Love……
Com knit hands and beat the ground
In a light fantastick round.