One fhyer ftill, who quite detefted talk;
Oft' ftung by spleen, at once away he broke,
To groves of pine and broad o'erfhadowing oak;
There inly thrill'd, he wander'd all alone,
And on himself his penfive fury wroke,
Ne ever utter'd word, fave when first shone
The glittering far of eve" Thank Heaven! the day is
Here lurk'd a wretch who had not crept abroad
For forty years, no face of mortal seen ;
In chamber brooding like a loathly toad,
And fure his linen was not very clean.
Through fecret loop-holes, that had practic'd been
Near to his bed, his dinner vile he took ;
Unkempt, and rough, of squalid face and mien,
Our Caftle's fhame! whence from his filthy nook,
We drove the villain out for fitter lair to look.
One day there chaunc'd into thefe halls to rove
A joyous youth, who took you at first fight;
Him the wild wave of pleasure hither drove,
Before the sprightly tempeft toffing light :
Certes, he was a moft engaging wight,
Of focial glee, and wit humane tho' keen,
Turning the night to day and day to night;
For him the merry bells had rung, I ween,
If in this nook of quiet bells had ever been,
Vol. VI. 23.
But not ev'n pleafure to excefs is good:
What most elates then finks the foul as low:
When fpring-tide joy pours in with copious flood,
The higher fill th' exulting billows flow,
The farther back again they flagging go,
And leave us grovelling on the dreary shore.
Taught by this fon of Joy we found it fo,
Who, whilft he ftaid, kept in a gay uproar
Our madden'd Castle all, the abode of Sleep no more.
LXIV.
As when in prime of June a burnifh'd fly,
Sprung from the meads, o'er which he fweeps along,
Cheer'd by the breathing bloom and vital sky,
Tunes up amid thefe airy halls his fong,.
Soothing at firft the gay repofing throng;
And oft' he fips their bowl; or, nearly drown'd,
He, thence recovering, drives their beds among,
And scares their tender fleep, with trump profound,
Then out again he flies, to wing his mazy round.
LXV.
Another gueft there was, of sense refin'd,
Who felt each worth, for every worth he had :
Serene, yet warm; humane, yet firm his mind ;
As little touch'd as any man's with bad:
Him thro' their inmoft walks the Mufes lad,
To him the facred love of nature lent,
And fometimes would he make our valley glad;
When as we found he would not here be pent,
To him the better fort this friendly meffage fent :
"Come, dwell with us, true fon of Virtue! come:
"But if, alas! we cannot thee perfuade
"To lie content beneath our peaceful dome,
"Ne ever more to quit our quiet glade,
"Yet when at laft thy toils, but ill apaid,
"Shall dead thy fire, and damp its heavenly spark,
"Thou wilt be glad to seek the rural shade,
"There to indulge the Mufe, and Nature mark;
"We then a lodge for thee will rear in Hagley-Park."
LXVII.
Here whilom ligg'd th' Efopus of the age,
But call'd by Fame, in foul ypricked deep;
A noble pride reftor'd him to the stage,
And rous'd him like a giant from his fleep.
E'en from his flumbers we advantage reap :
With double force th' enliven'd fcene he wakes,
Yet quits not Nature's bounds. He knows to keep
Each due decorum. Now the heart he shakes,
And now with well-urg'd sense th' enlighten'd judgment
A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard befeems,
Who, void of envy, guile, and luft of gain,
On virtue ftill, and Nature's pleafing themes,
Pour'd forth his unpremeditated strain :
The world forfaking with a calm difdain,
C2
Here laugh'd he careless in his easy seat ;
Here quaff'd, encircled with the joyous train,
Oft' moralizing fage; his ditty fweet
He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat.
LXIX.
Full oft' by holy feet our ground was trød,
Of clerks good plenty here you mote efpy;
A little, round, fat, oily man of God,
Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry:
He had a roguifh twinkle in his eye,
And fhone all glittering with ungodly dew,
If a tight domfel chaunc'd to trippe by ;
Which when obferv'd, he fhrunk into his mew,
And fraight would recollect his piety anew.
Nor be forgot a tribe who minded naught
(Old inmates of the place) but ftate-affairs;
They look'd, perdie, as if they deeply thought,
And on their brow fat every nation's cares.
The world by them is parcell'd out in shares,
When in the Hall of fmoak they congrefs hold,
And the Sage berry fun-burnt Mocha bears
Has clear'd their inward eye: then, fmoke-enroll❜d,
Their oracles break forth myfterious as of old.
LXXI.
Here languid Beauty kept her pale fac'd court:
Bévies of ancient dames, of high degree,
From every quarter hither måde refort,
Where, from grofs mortal care and business free,
They lay, pour'd out in cafe and luxury:
Or fhould they a vain fhew of work affume,
Alas! and well-a-day what can it be?
To knot, to twift, to range the vernal bloom,
But far is caft the diftaff, fpinning-wheel, and loom..
Their only labour was to kill the time ; :
And labour dire it is, and weary woe:
They fit, they loll, turn o'er fome idle rhyme,.
Then, rifing fudden, to the glafs they go,
Or faunter forth, with tottering flep and flow :
This foon too rude an exercise they find;
Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw,
Where hours on hours they fighing lie reclin'd,
And court the vapoury god foft-breathing in the wind..
LXXIII.
Now muft I mark the villainy we found;
But, ah! too late, as fhall eftfoons be fhewn.
A place here was, deep, dreary, underground,
Where ftill our inmates, when unpleafing grown,
Difeas'd, and loathfome, privily where thrown.
Far from the light of heaven, they languish'd there,
Unpity'd uttering many a bitter grown ;
For of thefe wretches taken was no care;
Fierce fiends and hags of hell their only nurses were.
LXXIV.
Alas! the change! from scenes of joy and rest,
To this dark den, where Sicknefs tofs'd alway.
Here Lethargy, with deadly fleep opprest,
Stretch'd on his back, a mighty lubbard, lay
Heaving his fides, and fnored night and day;
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