Chapter 55

Shun the bustle of the bay, Hasten, virgins, come away; Hasten to the mountain's brow, Leave, O leave, S. Ives below. Haste to breathe a purer air, Virgins fair, and pure as fair; Fly S. Ives and all her treasures, Fly her soft voluptuous pleasures; Fly her sons and all their wiles, Lushing in their wanton smiles; Fly the splendid midnight halls; Fly the revels of her balls; Fly, O fly the chosen …