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CHORUS
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Thus with i|magined | wing our | swift scene
flies,
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In mot|ion of / no less | celer|ity || than that
| of Thought.
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Suppose,| that you |
have seen
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The well-|appoint|ed king | at Dov|er pier,
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Embark | his roy|alty:| and his / brave fleet,
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With silk|en stream|ers, the / young Phoe|bus
fan||ning;
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Play | with your fan|cies: and | in them |
behold,
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Upon the | hempen | tackle, ship-boys | climbing;
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Hear the shrill whist|le, which | doth ord|er give
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To sounds | confused:| behold | the thread|en
sails,
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Borne with | the invis|ible | and creep|ing wind,
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Draw the huge bot|toms through | the fur|rowed
sea,
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Breasting | the lof|ty surge.| O, do | but think
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You stand | upon | the rav|age, and | behold
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A ci|ty on | the inconst|ant bil|lows danc||ing:
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For | so appears | this fleet | majest|ical,
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Holding | due course to Har|flew. Fol|low,
fol||low:
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Grap|ple your minds | to stern|age of this |
navy,
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And leave | your Eng|land as / dead mid|night,
still,
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Guarded with | grandsires, bab|ies, and old |
women,
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Either | past, or not ar|rived to | pith and |
puissance: ??
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For who | is he,| whose chin | is but | enriched
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With one | appear|ing hair,| that will not |
follow
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These culled | and choice-drawn cav|aliers | to
France?
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Work, work your* thoughts,| and there|in see | a
siege: ??
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Behold | the ordi|nance on | their car|riages,
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With fat|al mouths | gaping on | girded |
Harflew.
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Suppose | the ambas|sador* from | the French
comes back:
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Tells Har/ry, that | the king | doth of|fer him
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Katharine his | daughter,| and with | her to |
dowry,
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Some pet|ty and / unprof|itable / dukedoms.
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The of|fer likes | not: and | the nimble | gunner
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With linstock now | the dev|ilish cannon
| touches,
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And down | goes^all | before | them. Still | be
kind,
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And eke | out our | perfor|mance with | your
mind.
[Exit]