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THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
The funeral dirge, they down, the torrent rollid:
"For you (resumed the knight with sterner The world, returning hither their sad spirits
Whose hard dry hearts the obdurate demon
That villain's gifts will cost you many a groan; Meantime a moving scene was open laid;
In dolorous mansion long you must bemoan That lazar-house I whilom in my lay
His fatal charms, and weep your stains away; Depainted have, its horrors deep display'd, Till, soft and pure as infant goodness grown, And gave unnumber'd wretches to the day, You feel a perfect change: then, who can say Who tossing there in squalid misery lay. What grace may yet shine forth in Heaven's Soon as of sacred light the unwonted smile
This said, his powerful wand he waved anew: The sick upraised their heads, and dropp'd their Instant a glorious angel-train descends, woes awhile.
The Charities, to wit, of rosy hue;
And with seraphic flame compassion blends.
When lo! a goodly hospital ascends
To see kind hands attending day and night,
With tender ministry from place to place.
Some prop the head; some, from the pallid face LXIX.
Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature sheds, The gentle Knight, who saw their rueful case, Some reach the healing draught: the whilst, to Let fall adown his silver beard some tears.
Of those he rescued had from gaping hell,
Soft-pacing, sought of peace the mossy cell:
Yet down his cheeks the gems of pity fell,
To see the helpless wretches that remain'd,
yell; And by these sufferings purify the mind; Amazed, their looks with pale dismay were Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd:
stain'd, Or pious die, with penitence resign'd; And spreading wide their hands they meek reAnd to a life more happy and refined,
pentance feigned. Doubt not, you shall, new creatures, yet arise. Till then, you may expect in me to find One who will wipe your sorrow from your But ah! their scorned day of grace was past: eyes,
For (horrible to tell!) a desert wild One who will sooth your pangs, and wing you Before them stretch'd, bare,comfortless, and vast; to the skies."
With gibbets, bones, and carcasses defiled.
There nor trim field, nor lively culture smiled:
Apaid, paid. Whilst Phæbus smote them sore, and fired the Appal, affright. cloudless air.
Bale, sorrow, trouble, misfortune.
Carol, to sing songs of joy.
Defly, skilfully Through these extremes a ceaseless round they Depainted, painted. steerd,
Gear or Geer, furniture, equipage, dress,
Imp, child or offspring; from the Saxon impan, Direful to see! a heart-appalling sight!
to graft or plant. Meantime foul scurf and blotches him defile; Kest, for cast. And dogs, where'er he went, still barked all the Lad, for led. while.
Lea, a piece of land, or meadow,
Lig, to lie.
And taunts he casten forth most bitterly. Muchel, or Mochel, much, great.
Pricked through the forest, rode through the forest.
Makes them renew their unmelodious moan; Soot, sweet, or sweetly. Ne ever find they rest from their unresting fone. Sooth, true, or truth.
Stound, misfortune, pang.
N. B. The letter Y is frequently placed in the beginning of a word, by Spenser, to lengthen it a syllable, and en at the end of a word, for the same reason, as withouten, casten, &c.
Et tantas audetis tollere moles ?
AS on the sea-beat shore Britannia sat, Whence this unwonted patience this weak doubt?
Dispirited and thin; her sons ashamed
With not one glory sparkling in their eye, * E'en not yon sail, that from the sky-mixt wave, One triumph on their tongue. A passenger, Dawns on the sight, and wafts the Royal Youth,* The violated merchant comes along; A freight of future glory to my shore;
That far sought wealth, for which the noxious gale E'en not the flattering view of golden days, He drew, and sweat beneath equator suns, And rising periods yet of bright renown,
By lawless force detain'd; a force that soon Beneath the parents, and their endless line Would melt away, and every spoil resign, Through late revolving time, can sooth my rage; Were once the British lion heard to roar. While, unchastised, the insulting Spaniard dares Whence is it that the proud Iberian thus Infest the trading flood, full of vain war
In their own'well asserted element, Despise my navies, and my merchants seize; Dares rouse to wrath the masters of the main ? As, trusting to false peace, they fearless roam Who told him, that the big incumbent war The world of waters wild; made, by the toil, Would not, ere this, have rolld his trembling ports And liberal blood of glorious ages, mine: In smoky ruin ? and his guilty stores, Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their head. Won by the ravage of a butcher'd world,
Yet unatoned, sunk in the swallowing deep, • Frederick Prince of Wales, then lately arrived. Or led the glittering prize into the Thames ?
• There was a time (Oh let my languid sons When only shining shares, the crooked knife, Resume their spirit at the rousing thought!) And hooks imprint the vegetable wound; When all the pride of Spain, in one dread fleet, When the land blushes with the rose alone, Swelld o'er the labouring surge; like a whole The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine. heaven
Oh, Peace! thou source and soul of social life; Of clouds, wide roll'd before the boundless breeze. Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, Gaily the splendid armament along
Science his views enlarges, Art refines, Exultant plough’d, reflecting a red gleam, And swelling Commerce opens all her ports; As sunk the sun, o'er all the flaming Vast; Bless'd be the man divine who gives us thee! Tall, gorgeous, and elate; drunk with the dream Who bids the trumpet hush his horrid clang, Of easy conquest; while their bloated war, Nor blow the giddy nations into rage; Stretch'd out from sky to sky, the gather'd force Who sheaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun Of ages held in its capacious womb.
Into the well piled armory returns; But soon, regardless of the cumbrous pomp, And every vigour, from the work of death, My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy few, To grateful industry converting, makes With tempests black, the goodly scene deform’d, The country flourish, and the city smile. And laid their glory waste. The bolts of fate Unviolated, him the virgin sings; Resistless thunder'd through their yielding sides; And him the smiling mother to her train. Fierce o'er their beauty blazed the lurid flame; Of him the shepherd, in the peaceful dale, And seized in horrid grasp, or shatter'd wide, Chants; and, the treasures of his labour sure, Amid the mighty waters, deep they sunk. The husbandman of him, as at the plough, Then too from every promontory chill,
Or team, he toils. With him the sailor sooths. Rank fen, and cavern where the wild wave works, Beneath the trembling moon, the midnight wave; I swept confederate winds, and swell’d a storm. And the full city, warm, from street to street, Round the glad isle, snatch'd by the vengeful blast, And shop to shop, responsive, rings of him. The scatter'd remnants drove; on the blind shelve, Nor joys one land alone: his praise extends And pointed rock, that marks the indented shore, Far as the sun rolls the diffusive day; Relentless dash’d, where loud the northern main Far as the breeze can bear the gifts of peace, Howls through the fractured Caledonian isles. Till all the happy nations catch the song..
'Such were the dawnings of my watery reign; What would not, Peace! the patriot bear for But since how vast it grew, how absolute,
thee? E'en in those troubled times, when dreadful Blake What painful patience. What incessant care? Awed angry nations with the British name, What mix'd anxiety? What sleepless toil? Let every humbled state, let Europe say, E'en from the rash protected what reproach? Sustain'd, and balanced, by my naval arm. For he thy value knows; thy friendship he Ah, what must those immortal spirits think To human nature: but the better thou, Of your poor shifts ? Those, for their country's The richer of delight, sometimes the more good,
Inevitable war; when ruffian force Who faced the blackest danger, knew no fear, Awakes the fury of an injured state. No mean submission, but commanded peace. E'en the good patient man, whom reason rules, Ah, how with indignation must they burn? Roused by bold insult, and injurious rage, (If aught, but joy, can touch ethereal breasts) With sharp and sudden check the astonish'd sons With shame? with grief ? to see their feeble sons of violence confounds; firm as his cause, Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd seas, His bolder heart; in awful justice clad; For which their wisdom plann'd, their councils His eyes effulging a peculiar fire: glow'd,
And, as he charges through the prostrate war, And their veins bled through many a toiling age. His keen arm teaches faithless men, no more
Oh, first of human blessings! and supreme! To dare the sacred vengeance of the just. Fair Peace ! how lovely, how delightful thou! And what, my thoughtless sons, should fire By whose wide tie the kindred sons of men
you more Like brothers live, in amity combined
Than when your well earn'd empire of the deep And unsuspicious faith; while honest toil The least beginning injury receives? Gives every joy, and to those joys a right, What better cause can call your lightning forth ? Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps. Your thunder wake? your dearest life demand? Pure is thy reign; when, unaccursed by blood, What better cause, than when your country sees. Nought, save the sweetness of indulgent showers, The sly destruction at her vitals aim'd? Trickling distils into the vernant glebe; For oh! it much imports you, 'tis your all, Instead of mangled carcasses, sad-seen, To keep your trade entire, entire the force When the blithe sheaves lie scatter'd o'er the field; And honour of your fleets; o'er that to watch,
E'en with a hand severe, and jealous eye. E’en not that prime of earth, where harvests crowd In intercourse be gentle, generous, just,
On untillid harvests, all the teeming year, By wisdom polished, and of manners fair; If of the fat o'erflowing culture robb’d, But on the sea be terrible, untamed,
Were then a more uncomfortable wild, Unconquerable still: let none escape,
Steril, and void ; than of her trade deprived, Who shall but aim to touch your glory there. Britons, your boasted isle: her princes sunk; Is there the man into the lion's den
Her high built honour moulder'd to the dust; Who dares intrude, to snatch his young away? Unnerved her force; her spirit vanish'd quite; And is a Briton seized ? and seized beneath With rapid wing her riches fled away; The slumbering terrors of a British fleet ? Her unfrequented ports alone the sign Then ardent rise! Oh, great in vengeance rise ! Of what she was; her merchants scatter'd wide; O'erturn the proud, teach rapine to restore: Her hollow shops shut up; and in her streets, And as you ride sublimely round the world, Her fields, woods, markets, villages, and roads, Make every vessel stoop, make every state The cheerful voice of labour heard no more. At once their welfare and their duty know.
"Oh, let not then waste luxury impair This is your glory: this your wisdom; this
That manly soul of toil which strings your nerves, The native power for which you were design'd
And your own proper happiness creates ! By fate, when fate designed the firmest state
Oh, let not the soft, penetrating plague That e'er was seated on the subject sca;
Creep on the freeborn mind! and working there, A state, alone, where Liberty should live,
With the sharp tooth of many a new-form'd want, In these late times, this evening of mankind,
Endless, and idle all, eat out the heart When Athens, Rome, and Carthage are no more, Of liberty; the high conception blast; The world almost in slavish sloth dissolved.
The noble sentiment, the impatient scorn For this, these rocks around your coast were
Of base subjection, and the swelling wish thrown;
For general good, erasing from the mind: For this, your oaks, peculiar harden'd, shoot
While nought save narrow selfishness succeeds, Strong into sturdy growth; for this, your hearts
And low design, the sneaking passions all
Let loose, and reigning in the rankled breast.
Sapping the very frame of government,
And life, a total dissolution comes; Undangerous to the public, ever prompt,
Sloth, ignorance, dejection, flattery, fear. By lavish nature thrust into your hand :
Oppression raging o'er the waste he makes;
The human being almost quite extinct;
And the whole state in broad corruption sinks. Where'er the wind your high behests can blow;
And countless ages roll it far away
From you, ye heaven-beloved! May liberty, Soon slacken'd quite, and past recovery broke,
The light of life! the sun of humankind !
Whence heroes, bards, and patriots borrow flame, It gathers ruin as it rolls along,
E'en where the keen depressive north descends, Steep rushing down to that devouring gutf,
Still spread, exalt, and actuate your powers! Where many a mighty empire buried lies.
While slavish southern climates beam in vain. And should the big redundant flood of trade,
And may a public spirit from the throne, In which ten thousand thousand labours join
Where every virtue sits, go copious forth,
Live o'er the land! the finer arts inspire;
Make thoughtful Science raise his pensive head, Its course another way, o'er other lands
And the rough sons of lowest labour smile. The various treasure would resistless pour,
As when, profuse of Spring, the loosen'd West. Ne'er to be won again; its ancient tract
up the pining year, and balmy breathes Left a vile channel, desolate, and dead,
Youth, life, and love, and beauty, o'er the world. With all around a miserable waste. Not Egypt, were her better heaven, the Nile, ' But haste wc from these melancholy shores, Turn'd in the pride of flow; when o'er his rocks, Nor to deaf winds, and waves, our fruitless plaint And roaring cataracts, beyond the reach Pour weak; the country claims our active aid; Of dizzy vision piled, in one wide flash
That let us roam; and where we find a spark An Ethiopian deluge foams amain;
Of public virtue, blow it into flame. (Whence wondering fable traced him from the sky) Lo! now, my sons, the sons of freedom! meet