XXI.

The drooping Muses then he westward call'd,
From the fam'd city by Propontic sea,
What time the Turk th' enfeebled Grecian thrall'd,
Thence from their cloister'd walks he set them free,
And brought them to another Castalie,
Where Isis many a famous noursling breeds;
Or where old Cam soft paces o'er the lea

In pensive mood, and tunes his Doric reeds,

The whilst the flocks at large the lonely shepherd feeds.
XXII.

Yet the fine arts were what he finish'd least.
For why? they are the quintessence of all,
The growth of labouring time, and slow increast;
Unless, as seldom chances, it should fall,
That mighty patrons the coy sisters call
Up to the sun-shine of uncumber'd ease,

Where no rude care the mounting thought may thrall,
And where they nothing have to do but please:
Ah! gracious God! thou know'st they ask no other
fees.

XXIII.

But now, alas! we live too late in time:
Our patrons now even grudge that little claim,
Except to such as sleek the soothing rhyme:
And yet, forsooth, they wear Mæcenas' name,
Poor sons of puft-up Vanity, not Fame,
Unbroken spirits cheer! still, still remains
Th' eternal patron, Liberty! whose flame,
While she protects, inspires the noblest strains,
The best and sweetest far, are toil-created gains.

XXIV.

When as the knight had fram'd, in Britain-land,
A matchless form of glorious government,
In which the sovereign laws alone command,
Laws 'stablish'd by the public free consent,
Whose majesty is to the sceptre lent;
When this great plan, with each dependent art,
Was settled firm, and to his heart's content,
Then sought he from the toilsome scene to part,
And let life's vacan e breathe quiet thro' the heart.
XXV.

For this he chose a farm in Deva's vale,
Where his long alleys peep'd upon the main;
In this calm seat he drew the healthful gale;
Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the swain.
The happy monarch of his sylvan train,
Here, sided, by the guardian of the fold,

He walk'd his rounds, and cheer'd his blest domain:
His days, the days of unstain'd Nature roll'd,
Replete with peace and joy, like patriarchs of old.

And all th' enliven'd country beautify;

Gay plains extend where marshes slept before;
O'er recent meads, th' exulting streamlets fly;
Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres' store,
And woods embrown the steep, or wave along the
shore.

XXVIII.

As nearer to his farm you made approach,
He polish'd Nature with a finer hand:
Yet on her beauties durst not Art encroach;
'Tis Art's alone these beauties to expand.
In graceful dance immingled o'er the land,
Pan, Pales, Flora, and Pomona play'd;
Here, too, brisk gales the rude wild common fann'd,
A happy place; where free, and unafraid,

Amid the flowering brakes each coyer creature stray'd.
XXIX.

But in prime vigour what can last for ay?
That soul-enfeebling wizard Indolence,
I whilom sung, wrought in his works decay;
Spread far and wide was his curs'd influence:
Of public virtue much he dull'd the sense,
Even much of private; ate our spirit out,
And fed our rank luxurious vices: whence
The land was overlaid with many a lout!
Not, as old Fame reports, wise, generous, bold, and
stout.

I will (he cry'd) so help me, God! destroy
That villain Archimage. His page then straight
He to him call'd, a fiery-footed boy,

Renempt Dispatch. My steed be at the gate;
My bard attend; quick, bring the net of Fate."
This net was twisted by the sisters three,
Which when once cast o'er harden'd wretch, too late
Repentance comes: replevy cannot be

From the strong iron grasp of vengeful destiny.

XXXIII.

He came, the bard, a little Druid wight,
Of withered aspect; but his eye was keen,
With sweetness mix'd. In russet brown bedight,
As is his sister* of the copses green,

He crept along, unpromising of mien.
Gross he who judges so. His soul was fair,
Bright as the children of yon azure sheen.
True comeliness, which nothing can impair,
Dwells in the mind; all else is vanity and glare.

* The nightingale.

XXXIV. Come, quoth the Knight, a voice has reach'd mine ear: The demon Indolence threats overthrow To all that to mankind is good and dear: Come, Philomelus! let us instant go, O'erturn his bowers, and lay his castle low. Those men, those wretched men! who will be slaves, Must drink a bitter wrathful cup of woe!

But some there be, thy song, as from their graves, Shall raise. Thrice happy he! who without rigour

saves.

XXXV.

Issuing forth, the Knight bestrode his steed,
Of ardent bay, and on whose front a star
Shone blazing bright: sprung from the generous breed
That whirl of active day the rapid car,
He pranc'd along, disdaining gate or bar.
Meantime the bard on milk-white palfrey rode;
An honest, sober beast, that did not mar
His meditations, but full softly trode;

And much they moraliz'd as thus yfere they yode.

XXXVI.

They talk'd of virtue, and of human bliss;
What else so fit for man to settle well?
And still their long researches met in this,
This truth of truths, which nothing can refel;
"From virtue's fount the purest joys out-well,
Sweet rills of thought that cheer the conscious soul:
While vice pours forth the troubled streams of hell,
The which, howe'er disguis'd, at last with dole
Will thro' the tortur'd breast their fiery torrent roll."

XXXVII.

At length it dawn'd, that fatal valley gay,
O'er which high wood-crown'd hills their summits rear:
On the cool height awhile our palmers stay,
And, spite even of themselves, their senses cheer;
Then to the wizard's wonne their steps they steer:
Like a green isle it broad beneath them spred,
With gardens round, and wandering currents clear,
And tufted groves to shade the meadow-bed,
Sweet airs and song; and without hurry all seemed
glad.

XXXVIII.

"As God shall judge me, knight! we must forgive," The half-enraptur'd Philomelus cry'd, "The frail good man, deluded, here to live,

And in these groves his musing fancy hide.

Ah! nought is pure. It cannot be deny'd
That virtue still some tincture has of vice,
And vice of virtue. What should then betide,
But that our charity be not too nice?

Come, let us those we can to real bliss entice."

XXXIX.

"Ay, sicker, + (quoth the knight) all flesh is frail,
To pleasant sin and joyous dalliance bent;
But let not brutish vice of this avail,
And think to 'scape deserved punishment.
Justice were cruel, weakly to relent;
From Mercy's self she got her sacred glaive; ‡
Grace be to those who can and will repent;
But penance, long and dreary, to the slave,
Who must in floods of fire his gross foul spirit lave."
XL.

Thus holding high discourse, they came to where
The cursed carle was at his wonted trade,
Still tempting heedless men into his snare,
In witching wise, as I before have said:

But when he saw, in goodly geer* array'd,
The grave majestic knight approaching nigh,
And by his side the bard so sage and staid,
His count'nance fell; yet oft his anxious eye
Mark'd them, like wily fox who roosted cock doth spy.
XLI.

Nathless, with feign'd respect, he bade give back
The rabble rout, and welcom'd them full kind;
Struck with the noble twain, they were not slack
His orders to obey, and fall behind.
Then he resum'd his song; and, unconfin'd,
Pour'd all his music, ran through all his strings;
With magic dust their eyne he tries to blind;
And virtue's tender airs o'er weakness flings.
What pity base his song who so divinely sings!

XLII.

Elate in thought, he counted them his own,
They listen'd so intent with fix'd delight;
But they instead, as if transmew'd to stone,
Marvell'd he could with such sweet art unite
The lights and shades of manners, wrong and right.
Mean time the silly crowd the charm devour,
Wide pressing to the gate. Swift on the knight
He darted fierce, to drag him to his bower,
Who back'ning shunn'd his touch, for well he knew
its
power.

XLIII.

As in throng'd amphitheatre, of old,
The wary Retiarius ‡ trapp'd his foe,
Even so the knight, returning on him bold,
At once involv'd him in the net of woe,
Whereof I mention made not long ago.
Enrag'd at first, he scorn'd so weak a jail,
And leapt, and flew, and flounced to and fro;
But when he found that nothing could avail,
He sat him felly down, and gnaw'd his bitter nail.

XLIV.

Alarm'd, th' inferior demons of the place
Rais'd rueful shrieks and hideous yells around,
Black stormy clouds deform'd the welkin's face,
And from beneath was heard a wailing sound,
As of infernal sprites in cavern bound;
A solemn sadness every creature strook,
And lightnings flash'd and horror rock'd the ground:
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 short-liv'd tempest was yspent,
Steam'd from the jaws of vex'd Avernus' hole,
And hush'd the rubbub of the rabblement,
Sir Industry the first calm moment stole :
"There must (he cry'd) amid so vast a shoal,
Be some who are not tainted at the heart,
Not poison'd quite by this same villain's bowl;
Come then, my bard! thy heavenly fire impart ;
Touch soul with soul, till forth the latent spirit start."
XLVI.

The bard obey'd; and taking from his side,
Where it in seemly sort depending hung,
His British harp, its speaking strings he try'd,
The which with skilful touch he deftly strung,

Till tinkling in clear symphony they rung:

Then as he felt the muses come along,
Light o'er the chords his raptur'd hand he flung,
And play'd a prelude to his rising song;

The whilst, like midnight mute, ten thousands round him throng.

XLVII.

Thus, ardent, burst his strain:

"Ye hapless race! Dire-labouring here to smother Reason's ray, That lights our Maker's image in our face, And gives us wide o'er earth unquestion'd sway, What is th' ador'd Supreme Perfection, say? What but eternal never-resting soul,

Amighty power, and all-directing day;

"

By whom each atom stirs, the planets roll;

LIII.

"Dumb, too, had been the sage historic Muse
And perish'd all the sons of ancient fame;
Those starry lights of virtue, that diffuse
Through the dark depth of time their vivid flame,
Had all been lost with such as have no name.
Who then had scorn'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 cause been prodigal of blood?
LIV.

"But should to fame your hearts unfeeling be,

If right I read, you pleasure all require :
Then hear how best may be obtain❜d this fee,
How best enjoy'd this nature's wide desire.

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 seraphs burning round th' Almighty's throne,

Life rising still on life, in higher tone,
Perfection forms, and with perfection, bliss.
In universal nature this clear shown,

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 sight more joyous than the dead morass?
Do not the skies, with active ether clean,
And fann'd by sprightly zephyrs, far surpass
The foul November fogs, and slumb❜rous mass,
With which sad Nature veils her drooping face?
Does not the mountain-stream, as clear as glass,
Gay dancing on, the putrid pool disgrace?

The same 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 soft yet ardent Athens learn'd to please,
To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart,
In all supreme! complete in ev'ry part!
It was not thence majestic Rome arose,

And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart;
For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows;
Renown is not the child of indolent repose.

Into your quicken'd limbs her buoyant breath!
Who does not act is dead: absorpt entire

In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath :

O leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death!
LV.

"Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,
When drooping health and spirits go amiss?
How tasteless then whatever can be given?
Health is the vital principle of bliss,
And exercise of health. In proof of this,
Behold the wretch who slugs his life away,

Soon swallow'd in disease's sad abyss;

While he whom toil has brac'd, or manly play, Has light as air each limb, each thought as clear as day.

LVI.

"O, who can speak the vigorous joys of health!
Unclogg'd the body, and unobscur'd the mind;
The morning rises gay with pleasing stealth,
The temperate evening falls serene and kind.
In health the wiser brutes true gladness find.
See! how the younglings frisk along the meads,
As May comes on and wakes the balmy wind;
Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds;
Yet what but high-strung health this dancing plea-
saunce breeds?

LVII.

"But here, instead, is foster'd every ill,
Which or distemper'd minds or bodies know.
Come then, my kindred spirits! do not spill
Your talents here. This place is but a show,
Whose charms delude you to the den of woe:
Come, follow me, I will direct you right,
Where Pleasure's roses, void of serpents, grow
Sincere as sweet: come, follow this good knight,
And you will bless the day that brought him to your
sight.

LVIII.

"Some he will lead to courts, and some to camps,
To senates some, and public sage debates,
Where, by the solemn gleam of midnight-lamps,
The world is pois'd, and manag'd mighty states;
To high discovery some, that new creates
The face of earth; some to the thriving mart;
Some to the rural reign and softer fates;
To the sweet muses some, who raise the heart:
All glory shall be yours, all nature, and all art.
LIX.

"There are, I see, who listen to my lay,
Who wretched sigh for virtue, but despair,
All may be done (methinks I hear them say,)
Even death despis'd, by generous actions fair;

All, but for those who to these bowers repair,
Their every power dissolv'd in luxury,
To quit of torpid sluggishness the lair,
And from the powerful arms of Sloth get free,
'Tis rising from the dead-Alas!--it cannot be !
LX.

"Would you then learn to dissipate the band
Of these huge threat'ning difficulties dire,
That in the weak man's way like lions stand,
His soul appall, and damp his rising fire?
Resolve, resolve, and to be men aspire.
Exert that noblest privilege, alone,

Here to mankind indulg'd; controul desire;
Let godlike Reason, from her sovereign throne,
Speak the commanding world-I will-and it is done.

LXI.

"Heavens! can you then thus waste, in shameful wise,
Your few important days of trial here?
Heirs of eternity! yborn* to rise

Through endless states of being, still more near
To bliss approaching, and perfection clear,
Can you renounce a fortune so sublime?

Such glorious hopes, your backward steps to steer,
And roll, with vilest brutes, through mud and slime?
No! no! your heaven-touch'd hearts disdain the sor-
did crime !"

LXII.

"Enough! enough!" they cried.-Straight from the crowd,

The better sort on wings of transport fly:
As when amid the lifeless summits proud
Of Alpine cliffs, where to the gelid sky
Snows pil'd on snows in wintry torpor lie,
The rays divine of vernal Phoebus play;
Th' awaken'd heaps, in streamlets from on high,
Rous'd into action, lively leap away,

Glad warbling through the vales, in their new being gay.
LXIII.

Not less the life, the vivid joy serene,
That lighted up these new-created men,
Than that which wings th' exulting spirit clean,
When, just deliver'd from his fleshly den,
It soaring seeks its native skies agen;
How light its essence! how unclogg'd its pow'rs!
Beyond the blazon of my mortal pen :
Ev'n so we glad forsook these sinful bowers;
Ev'n such enraptur'd life-such energy was ours.
LXIV.

But far the greater part, with rage inflam'd,
Dire-mutter'd curses, and blasphem'd high Jove,
"Ye sons of Hate!" they bitterly exclaim'd,
"What brought you to this seat of peace and love?
While with kind Nature, here amid the grove,
We pass'd the harmless sabbath of our time,
What to disturb it could, fell men, emove
Your barbarous hearts? Is happiness a crime?
Then do the fiends of hell rule in yon heav'n
sublime."

LXV.

"Ye impions wretches!" quoth the knight in wrath,
"Your happiness behold !"-Then straight a wand
He wav'd, an anti-magic power that hath,
Truth from illusive falsehood to command.
Sudden the landscape sinks on every hand;

The pure quick streams are marshy puddles found;
On baleful heaths the groves all blacken'd stand;
And o'er the weedy, foul, abhorred ground,
Snakes, adders, toads, each loathsome creature crawls

around.

* Born.

LXVI.

And here and there, on trees by lightning scath'd,
Unhappy wights who loathed life yhung,
Or in fresh gore and recent murder bath'd,
They weltering lay; or else, infuriate flung
Into the gloomy wood, while ravens sung

The funeral dirge, they down the torrent roll'd:
These, by distemper'd blood to madness stung,
Had doom'd themselves; whence oft, when nigh
controll'd

The world, returning hither their sad spirits howl'd.

LXVII.

Mean time a moving scene was open laid;
That lazar-house, I whilom in my lay
Depainted have, its horrors deep display'd,
And gave unnumber'd wretches to the day,
Who tossing there in squallid misery lay.
Soon as of sacred light th' unwonted smile
Pour'd on these living catacombs its ray,
Through the drear caverns stretching many a mile,
The sick uprais'd their heads, and dropp'd their woes
awhile.

LXVIII.

"O Heav'n!" they cry'd," and do we once more see
Yon blessed sun, and this green earth so fair?
Are we from noisome damps and pest-house free?
And drink our souls the sweet 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."

LXIX.

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

LXX.

"Then patient bear the sufferings you have earn'd,
And by these sufferings purify the mind:
Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd,
Or pious die, with penitence resign'd;
And to a life more happy and refin❜d,
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 eyes,
One who will soothe your pangs, and wing you to the
skies."

LXXI.

They silent heard, and pour'd their thanks in tears.
"For you (resum'd the knight with sterner tone)
Whose hard dry hearts th' obdurate demon sears,
That villain's gifts will cost you many a groan;
In dolorous mansion long you must bemoan
His fatal charms, and weep your stains away;
Till, soft and pure as infant goodness grown,
You feel a perfect change; then who can say
What grace may yet shine forth in Heaven's eternal
day?"

LXXII.

This said, his powerful wand he wav'd anew;
Instant a glorious angel train descends,
The Charities, to-wit, of rosy hue,

Sweet Love their looks a gentle radiance lends,