LXX.

Some o'er thy Thamis row the ribboned fair,[dc] Others along the safer turnpike fly; Some Richmond-hill ascend, some scud to Ware, And many to the steep of Highgate hie. Ask ye, Boeotian Shades! the reason why?[15.B.] 'Tis to the worship of the solemn Horn,[88] Grasped in the holy hand of Mystery, In whose dread name both men and maids are sworn, And consecrate the oath with draught, and dance till morn.