Descend from Heav’n Urania, by that name If rightly thou art call’d, whose Voice divine Following, above th’ Olympian Hill I soare, Above the flight of Pegasean wing.
The meaning, not the Name I call: for thou Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top Of old Olympus dwell’st, but Heav’nlie borne, Before the Hills appeerd, or Fountain flow’d, Thou with Eternal wisdom didst converse, Wisdom thy Sister, and with her didst play In presence of th’ Almightie Father, pleas’d With thy Celestial Song.
Up led by thee Into the Heav’n of Heav’ns I have presum’d, An Earthlie Guest, and drawn Empyreal Aire, Thy tempring; with like safetie guided down Return me to my Native Element: Least from this flying Steed unrein’d, (as once Bellerophon, though from a lower Clime) Dismounted, on th’ Aleian Field I fall Erroneous, there to wander and forlorne.
Half yet remaines unsung, but narrower bound Within the visible Diurnal Spheare; Standing on Earth, not rapt above the Pole, More safe I Sing with mortal voice, unchang’d To hoarce or mute, though fall’n on evil dayes, On evil dayes though fall’n, and evil tongues; In darkness, and with dangers compast rouud, And solitude; yet not alone, while thou Visit’st my slumbers Nightly, or when Morn Purples the East: still govern thou my Song, Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
But drive farr off the barbarous dissonance Of Bacchus and his Revellers, the Race Of that wilde Rout that tore the Thracian Bard In Rhodope, where Woods and Rocks had Eares To rapture, till the savage clamor dround Both Harp and Voice; nor could the Muse defend Her Son.
So fail not thou, who thee implores: For thou art Heav’nlie, shee an empty dreame. Say Goddess, what ensu’d when Raphael, The affable Arch-angel, had forewarn’d