XXXIX. "Ay, ficker, (quoth the knight) all flesh is frail, "To pleasant fin and joyous dalliance bent; "But let not brutish vice of this avail, "And think to fcape deferved punishment. "Juftice were cruel weakly to relent; "From Mercy's felf she got her facred glaive; "Grace be to thofe who can, and will, repent; "But penance long, and dreary, to the slave, "Who muft in floods of fire his grofs foul fpirit lave." Thus, holding high discourse, they came to where Nathlefs, with feign'd respect, he bade give back Then he refum'd his fong; and unconfin'd, XLII. Elate XLII. Elate in thought, he counted them his own, Who backening fhunn'd his touch, for well he knew its As in throng'd amphitheatre, of old, The wary Retiarius trap'd his foe: Ev'n fo the knight, returning on him bold, [power. Inrag'd at first, he fcorn'd fo weak a jail, Alarm'd, th' inferior demons of the place [ground: And lightnings flash'd, and horror rock'd the Huge crowds on crowds out-pour'd, with blemish'd look, As if on time's last verge this frame of things had shook. XLV. Soon as the fhort-liv'd tempeft was yspent, Steam'd from the jaws of vext Avernus' hole, And hufh'd the hubbub of the rabblement, Sir Industry the first calm moment stole. "There muft, (he cry'd) amidst so vast a fhoal, "Be fome who are not tainted at the heart, "Not poifon'd quite by this fame villain's bowl: "Come then, my bard, thy heavenly fire impart; "Touch foul with soul, till forth the latent spirit start.” XLVI. The bard obey'd; and taking from his fide, The whilft, like midnight mute, ten thousands round XLVII. Thus, ardent, burst his strain.— [him throng. "Ye helpless race, "Dire-labouring here to fmother reason's ray, "That lights our Maker's image in our face, "And gives us wide o'er earth unquestion'd fway; "What is th' ador'd Supreme Perfection, say? "What, but eternal never-refting foul, "Almighty power, and all-directing day; "By whom each atom stirs, the planets roll; "Who fills, furrounds, informs, and agitates the whole. XLVIII. "Come, to the beaming God your hearts unfold! "Draw from its fountain life! 'Tis thence, alone, "We can excel. Up from unfeeling mold, "To feraphs burning round th' Almighty's throne, "Life rifing ftill on life, in higher tone, "Perfection forms, and with perfection blifs. "In univerfal nature this clear fhewn, "Nor needeth proof: to prove it were, I wis, "To prove the beauteous world excels the brute abyss. XLIX. "Is not the field, with lively culture green, "A fight more joyous than the dead morafs ? "Do not the skies, with active ether clean, "And fann'd by fprightly zephyrs, far furpafs "The foul November fogs, and flumberous mass, "With which fad nature veils her drooping face? "Does not the mountain-ftream, as clear as glass, "Gay-dancing on, the putrid pool difgrace? "The fame in all holds true, but chief in human race. L. "It was not by vile loitering in ease, "That Greece obtain❜d the brighter palm of art, "That foft yet ardent Athens learn'd to please, "To keen the wit, aud to fublime the heart, "And o'er the nations fhook her conquering dart: "For fluggard's brow the laurel never grows; "Renown is not the child of indolent repofe. R VOL. I. LI. "Had LI. "Had unambitious mortals minded nought, With brother-brutes the human race had graz'd; None e'er had foar'd to fame, none honour'd been, [none prais'd. "Great Homer's fong had never fir'd the breast "To thirft of glory, and heroic deeds; LII. "Sweet Maro's Mufe, funk in inglorious reft, "Had filent flept amid the Mincian reeds : "The wits of modern time had told their beads, "And monkish legends been their only strains; "Our Milton's Eden had lain wrapt in weeds, "Our Shakespeare stroll'd and laugh'd with Warwick ❝fwains, "Ne had my mafter Spenfer charm'd his Mulla's plains. LIII. "Dumb too had been the fage Historic Muse, "And perish'd all the fons of ancient fame; "Thofe ftarry lights of virtue, that diffuse "Through the dark depth of time their vivid flame, "Had all been loft with fuch as have no name. "Who then had fcorn'd his ease for others' good? "Who then had toil'd rapacious men to tame? "Who in the public breach devoted stood, "And for his country's caufe been prodigal of blood? |