In which, with heart to heau’n vp-lift, at length I downe did sinke: Where after still repose when as thin vapors had restrain’d The mouing powers of common sense, and sleepe each sense enchain’d, Whether the watchfull fantasie did now in sleepe restore The species of things sensible, which I had seene before: And so some dreame it only was, which I intend to tell, Or vision sent I’le not discusse, to me it thus befell: A sudden sound of trumpe I heard, whose blast so loud was blowne, That in a trance I senselesse lay, fraile mortall there was none That heard such sound, could sense retaine: my chamber wals did shake, Vp flew the doores, a voice I heard, which thus distinctly spake: “Awake from sleepe, lift vp thy head, and be no whit dismai’d, I serue the deities of heau’n, their hests must be obei’d, And now am sent from her that keepes the store-house of the mind: The mother of the muses nine, for thee she hath assign’d For her designe, the night to come in sleepe thou must not spend: Prepare thy selfe, that gainst she come, her will thou maist attend.” As to these words I listning lay, and had resumed spright, I boldly looked round about, and loe, there stood in sight True fame, the trumpeter of heau’n, that doth desire inflame To glorious deeds, and by her power eternifies the name: A golden trumpe her right hand held, which when she list to sound, Can smite the starres of heau’n, and bring the dead from vnder ground: Vpon her head a chaplet stood of neuer vading greene, Which honor gaue, to giue to them that fauour’d of her been: Her wings were white as snow, with which she compast heau’n and earth With names of such, whom honor did renowne for deeds of worth: As I beheld her princely port, yet trembling all for feare, A sound of heau’nly harmony did pierce my pleased eare, In rapture of whose sweet delight, as I did rauisht lie, The goddesse dread whom fame forespoke did stand before mine eie, The ladie of mount Helicon, the great Pierian dame, From whom the learned sisters nine deriue their birth and name, In golden garments clad she was, which time can neuer weare, Nor fretting moth consume the same, which did embroydered beare The acts of old _Heröes_ dead, set downe in stately verse, Which sitting by the horse-foot spring, Ioue’s daughters did rehearse: Fiue damsels did attend on her, who with such wondrous skill Do in their seuerall functions worke, to serue their ladie’s will, That what she seekes on earth, to see, to heare, smell, taste or touch, They can present the same with speed, their power and skill are such: As in amazement at such sight I in my bed did lie, She thus bespake: “I am,” quoth she, “the ladie Memorie, Ioue’s welbelou’d Mnemosyne, that keepes the wealthie store Of time’s rich treasure, where the deeds that haue been done of yore