To David straight, who in a forest nigh Waits his advice, the royal friend does fly. The sole advice, now, like the danger clear, Was in some foreign land this storm t' outwear. All marks of comely grief in both are seen, And mournful kind discourses passed between. Now generous tears their hasty tongues restrain; Now they begin, and talk all o'er again: A reverent oath of constant love they take, And God's high name their dreaded witness make: Not that at all their faiths could doubtful prove, But 'twas the tedious zeal of endless love. Thus, ere they part, they the short time bestow In all the pomp friendship and grief could show. And David now, with doubtful cares oppressed, Beneath a shade borrows some little rest; When by command divine thick mists arise, And stop the sense, and close the conquered eyes. There is a place which man most high doth rear, The small world's heaven, where reason moves the sphere; Here in a robe which does all colours show, (The envy of birds, and the clouds' gaudy bow,) Fancy, wild dame, with much lascivious pride, By twin-chameleons drawn, does gaily ride: Her coach there follows, and throngs round about Of shapes and airy forms an endless rout. A sea rolls on with harmless fury here; Straight 'tis a field, and trees and herbs appear. Here in a moment are vast armies made, And a quick scene of war and blood displayed. Here sparkling wines, and brighter maids come in, The bawds for Sense, and lying baits of sin. Some things arise of strange and quarrelling kind, The forepart lion, and a snake behind. Here golden mountains swell the covetous place, And Centaurs ride themselves, a painted race. Of these slight wonders Nature sees the store, And only then accounts herself but poor. Hither an angel comes in David's trance, And finds them mingled in an antique dance; Of all the numerous forms fit choice he takes, And joins them wisely, and this vision makes.