LXVI.

And here and there, on trees by lightning fcath'd,
Unhappy wights who loathed life yhung;

Or, in fresh gore and recent murder bath'd,
They weltering lay; or elfe, infuriate flung
Into the gloomy flood, while ravens fung

The funeral dirge, they down the torrent roll'd:'
Thefe, by diftemper'd blood to madness stung,
Had doom'd themselves; whence oft, when night
control'd

The world, returning hither their fad fpirits howl'd.

LXVII.

Meantime a moving scene was open laid;
That lazar-house, I whilom in my lay
Depeinted have, its horrors deep-display'd,
And gave unnumber'd wretches to the day,
Who toffing there in fqualid mifery lay.
Soon as of facred light th' unwonted smile
Pour'd on thefe living catacombs its ray,

LXVIII.

Through the drear caverns ftretching many a mile, The fick up-rais'd their heads, and dropp'd their woes [awhile. "O, heaven! (they cry'd) and do we once more fee "Yon bleffed fun, and this green earth so fair? "Are we from noisome damps of peft-house free? "And drink our fouls the fweet ethereal air? "O, thou! or knight, or god! who holdest there "That fiend, oh, keep him in eternal chains! "But what for us, the children of despair, "Brought to the brink of hell, what hope remains "Repentance does itself but aggravate our pains." R 4 LXIX. The

LXIX.

The gentle knight, who faw their rueful case, Let fall adown his filver beard fome tears. "Certes (quoth he) it is not ev'n in grace, "T' undo the past, and eke your broken years: "Nathlefs, to nobler worlds repentance rears, "With humble hope, her eye; to her is given "A power the truly contrite heart that chears; "She quells the brand by which the rocks are riven; "She more than merely foftens, fhe rejoices Heaven.

LXX.

"Then patient bear the fufferings you have carn'd, "And by these sufferings purify the mind; "Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd: · "Or pious die, with penitence refign'd; "And to a life more happy and refin'd,

"Doubt not, you fhall, new creatures, yet arife. "Till then, you may expect in me to find "One who will wipe your forrow from your eyes,

"One who will foothe your pangs, and wing you to

LXXI.

[the fkies. They filent hear'd, and pour'd their thanks in tears. For you (refum'd the knight, with fterner tone) "Whofe hard dry hearts th' obdurate demon fears, "That villain's gifts will cost you many a groan ;' "In dolorous manfion long you must bemoan

His fatal charms, and weep your ftains away; Till, foft and pure as infant goodness grown, "You feel a perfect change: then, who can fay, What grace may yet fhine forth in heaven's eternal *day?" LXXII. This

LXXII.

This faid, his powerful wand he wav'd anew:
Inftant, a glorious angel-train defcends,
The Charities, to-wit, of rofy hue;

Sweet love their looks a gentle radiance lends,
And with feraphic flame compaffion blends.
At once, delighted, to their charge they fly:
When, lo! a goodly hofpital afcends;

In which they bade each lenient aid be nigh, That could the fick-bed fmoothe of that fad company. LXXIII.

It was a worthy edifying fight,

And gives to human-kind peculiar grace, To fee kind hands attending day and night, With tender miniftry, from place to place. Some prop the head; fome from the pallid face Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature fheds; Some reach the healing draught: the whilft, to chace The fear fupreme, around their foften'd beds, Some holy man by prayer all opening heaven difpreds.

LXXIV.

Attended by a glad acclaiming train,

Of thofe he rescued had from gaping hell, Then turn'd the knight; and, to his hall again Soft-pacing, fought of peace the moffy cell: Yet down his cheeks the gems of pity fell, To fee the helpless wretches that remain'd, There left through delves and deserts dire to yell; Amaz'd, their looks with pale difmay were stain'd, And fpreading wide their hands they meek repentance feign'd. LXXV. But,

И

LXXV.

But, ah! their fcorned day of grace was past:
For (horrible to tell!) a defert wild

Before them stretch'd, bare, comfortless, and vaft;
With gibbets, bones, and carcases defil'd.

There nor trim field, nor lively culture fmil'd; Nor waving fhade was seen, nor fountain fair; But fands abrupt on fands lay loosely pil'd, [care, Through which they floundering toil'd with painful Whilft Phoebus fmote them fore, and fir'd the cloudlefs LXXVI.

Then, varying to a joylefs land of bogs,

The fadden'd country a grey wafte appear'd ;

[air.

Where nought but putrid steams and noisome fogs
For ever hung on drizzly Auster's beard;
Or elfe the ground by piercing Caurus fear'd,
Was jagg'd with froft, or heap'd with glazed fnow:
Through these extremes a ceaseless round they steer'd,
By cruel fiends ftill hurry'd to and fro,

Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn, with many hell-hounds moe.
LXXVII.

The firft was with base dunghill rags yclad,
Tainting the gale, in which they flutter'd light;
Of morbid hue his features, funk, and fad;
His hollow eyne shook forth a fickly light;
And o'er his lank jaw-bone, in piteous plight,
His black rough beard was matted rank and vile;
Direful to fee! an heart-appalling fight!

Meantime foul fcurf and blotches him defile;

And dogs, wheree'er he went, ftill barked all the while.

LXXVIII, The

LXXVIII.

The other was a fell defpightful fiend:

Hell holds none worse in baleful bower below:
By pride, and wit, and rage, and rancour, keen'd;
Of man alike, if good or bad, the foe:

With nose up-turn'd, he always made a shew
As if he smelt fome naufeous fcent; his eye
Was cold, and keen, like blaft from boreal fnow;
And taunts he caften forth most bitterly.

Such were the twain that off drove this ungodly fry.
LXXIX.

Ev'n fo through Brentford town, a town of mud,
An herd of brifly fwine is prick'd along ;

The filthy beafts, that never chew the cud,

Still grunt, and fqueak, and fing their troublous fong, And oft they plunge themselves the mire among: But ay the ruthless driver goads them on, And ay of barking dogs the bitter throng Makes them renew their unmelodious moan; Ne ever find they reft from their unresting fone.

To