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Or which obtaind the caitiffs dare not taste: 1

LV.
When nothing is enjoy'd, can there be greater But what most shew'd the vanity of life,
walte ?

Was to behold the nations all on fire,
L.

lu cruel broils engag'd, and deadly strife, Of Vanity the Mirrour this was callid.

Most Christian kings, inflam'd by black desire, Here you a muck-worm of the town might see, With honourable ruffians in their hire, At his dull desk, amid his legers (tallid,

Cause war to rage, and blood around to pour: Ate up with carking care and penurie,

Of this sad work when each begins to tire, Moft like to carcase parch'd on gallow-tree. They fit them down just where they were before, “ A penny saved is a penny got;"

Till for new scenes of woe peace shall their forec Firm to this scoundrel-niaxim keepeth he,

restore. Ne of its rigour will he bate a jot, Till it has quench'd his fire and banished his pot.

LVI.

To number up the thousands dwelling here,
LI.

An ufcless'were, and eke an endless talk;
Strait from the filth of this low grub, behold! From kings, and those who at the helm appear,
Comes Auttering forth a gaudy spendthrift heir, To gipsies brown in summer-glades who bak.
All glossy gay, enamellid
all with gold,

Yea many a man, perdie, I could unmask, The filly tenant of the summer air,

Whose desk and table make a folemn show, In folly lost, of nothing takes he care;

With tape-ty'd trash, and suits of fools, that alk. Pimps, lawyers, stewards, harlots, flatterers vile, For place or pension, laid in decent row; And thieving tradesmen, him among them share; But these I paffen by, with nameless numbers moe. His father's ghost from Limbo-lake, the while, Sees this, which more damnation doth upon him

LVII.
pile.

Of all the gentle tenants of the place,
LII.

There was a man of special grave remark;
This globe pourtray'd the race of learned men A certain tender gloom o'erspread his face,
Still at their books, and turning o'er the page

Pensive, not fad; in thought involv’d, not dark; Backwards and forwards : oft' they snatch the pen, As foot this man could fing as morning lark, As if inspir'd, and in a Thespian ragc,

And teach the noblest morals of the heart; Then write, and blot, as would your ruth engage. But these his talents were yburied stark ; Why, Authors! all this scrawl and scribbling of the fine stores he nothing would impart, fore?

hich or boon Nature gave, or nature-painting To lose the present, gain the future age,

Art.
Praised to be when you can hear no more,
And much enrich'd with fame when useless worldly

LVIII.
Lore?

To noontide shades incontinent he ran,

Where purls the brook with Necp-inviting found, LIII.

Or when Dan Sol to Nope his wheels began, Then would a splendid city rise to view,

Amid the broom he balk'd him on the ground, With carts, and cars, and coaches, roaring all :

Where the wild thyme and camomoil are found; Wide pour'd abroad behold the giddy crew,

There would he linger till the latest ray See how they dath along from wall to wall! Of light fate trembling on the welkin's bound, At every door, hark how they thundering call!

Then homcward thro' the twilight shadows stray, Good Lord ! what can this giddy rout excite? Sauntering and low: so had he passed many a day, Why, on each other with fell tooth to fall, A neighbour's fortune, fame, or peace, to blight,

LIX And make new tiresonie parties for the coming Yet not in thoughtlefs flumber were they past; night.

For ofi' the heavenly fire, that lay couceal'd

Beneath the sleeping embers, mounted fatt,
LIV.

And all its native light anew reveal'cc,
The puzzling fons of Party nexe appear'd,

Oft' as he travers'd che cerulean field, In dark cabals and nightly juntos miet,

And markt the clouds that drove before the wind, And now they whilper'd close, now Mrugging Ten thoufand glorious systems would he build, rear'd

Ten thousand great ideas fillid his mind : Th' important shoulder; then, as if to get

Buc with the clouds they fed, and left no trace New light, their twinkling eyes were inward set.

behind. No sooner Lucifer | recalls affairs, Than forth they various rush in mighty fret;

LX. When, lo! puth'd up to power, and crown'd their with him was sometimes join'd, in filent walk, cares,

(Profoundly silent, for they never spoke) In comes another fett, and kicketh them down One lyer ftill, who quite detelted talk; fairs.

Oft' Aung by spleen, at once away he broke

To groves of pine and broad o'er thadowing oak; The Morning Star,

There inly thrill’d, hc wander'd all alone, VOL, VIII

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And on himself his pensive fury woke,

Ne ever more to quit our quiet glade, Ne ever utter'd word, save when first thone " Yet when at last thy coils, but ill apaid, The glittering star of eve" Thank Heaven! the Shall dead thy fire, and damp its heavenly (park, day is done.”

* Thou wile he glad to seek the rural shade,

• There to indulge the Muse, and Nature mark; LXI.

Wethen a lodge for thee willrcarin Hagley-Park."
Here lurk'd a wretch who had not crept abroad
For forty years, ne face of niertal feen;

LXVII.
In chamber brooding like a loathly toad, Here whilom ligg'd th' Esopus * of the age,
And sure his linen was not very clean.

But call'd by Fame, in foul ypricked deep,
Through secret loop-holes, that had pradis'd been noble pride reftor'd him to the stage,
Near to his bed, his dinner vile he took ;

And rous'd him like a giant from his fleep. Unkempt and rough, of fqualid face and mien, E'en from his flumbers we advantage reap: Our Caitle's shame! whence, froni his filthy nook, With double force th' enliven'd scene he wakes, We drove the villain out for fitter lair to look. Yer quits not Nature's bounds. He knows to keep

Each due decoram. Now the heart he shakes, LXII.

And now with well-urg'd sense th' enlighten' & One day there chaunc'd into thefe halls to rove judgment takes. A joyous youth, who took you at first sight; Him the wild wave of pleafure hither drove,

LXVIII. Before the sprightly tempeit tosling light; A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseeris, Certes, he was a most engaging wighe,

+ Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, Of social glee, and wit humane, tho'keen, On virtue ftill, and Nature's pleasing chemes, Turning the night to day, and day to night : Pour'd forth his unprenieditated strain : For him the merry bells had rung, I ween, The world forsaking with a calm disdain, If in this gook of quiet bells had ever heen. Here laugh'd he careless in his easy feat:

Here quaf'd, eneireled with the joyous train, LXIII.

Oft' moralizing fage ; his ditty (weer But not e'en pleafure to excess is good:

He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat.
What most elates then finks the soul as low :
When fpring-tide joy pours in with copious flood,

LXIX.
The higher still th' exulting billows flow, Full oft' by holy feet our ground was trod,
The farther back again they flagging go, Of clerks good plenty here you mote efpy;
And leave us grovelling on the dreary inore. A littie, round, fat, oily man of God,

Taught by this son of Joy, we found it so, Was one I chicfly mark'd among the fry:
Who, whilft he staid, kept in a gay uproar, He had a roguish twinkle in his eye,
Our madden'd Castle all, the abode of Sleep noi And thone all glittering with ungodly dew,
trore.

If a tight damılel chaunc'd to trippen by;

Which when obferv'd, he flirunk into his mew,
LXIV.

And strait would recollect his plety anew.
As when in prime of June a burnih'd fly,
Sprung from the meads, o'er which he sweeps

LXX.
along,

Nor be forgot a tribe who minded nought Cheer'd by the breathing bloom and vital sky, (old inmates of the place) but state-affairs; Tunes up amid these airy halls his song,

They look'd, perdie, as if they deeply thought, Soothing at first the gay reposing throng: And on their brow fat every nation's cares. And ofthe fips their bowl; or, nearly drown'd, The world by them is parcell'd out in shares, He, tlxence recoverisg, drives their beds among,

When in the Hall of Smoke they congress hold, And scares their icider flecp, with trump profound, And the fage berry fun-burnt Mocha bears Then out again he flies, to wing his nazy round. Hias ciear'u their inward eye; theri, inoke-en

rollid, LXV.

Their oracles break forth mysterious as of old. Another gueft there was, of sense iefin'd, Wha felt cach worth, for every worth he had:

LXXI. Serene, yet wa' m; humane, yet firm his mind; Here languid Beauty kept her pale-fac'd court: As little touch'd as any man's with bad :

Bevies of dainty dames, of high degree, Him thro' their inmof walks the Muíes lad, From every quarter hither made resort, To him the sacred love of Nature loni,

Where, from grofs mortal care and business free, And sometimes would he make our valley glad; They lay, pour'd out in ease and luxury: When as we found he would not here be pent, Or should they a vain thew of work assume, To him the better fort this friendly meflage fent: Alas! and well-a-day! what can it be?

To knot, to twist, to range the vernal bloom; LXVI.

But far is cast the diftaff, spinning-wheel, and loom. «Come, dwell with us, true son of Virtue! come;

* Mr. Quino * Put it, alas! we cannot thec persuade

+ The folloiving lines of this fianza were writ bien * To lis content beneath our peaceful done, a friend of the Authors

LXXII.

CANTO II.
Their only labour was to kill the time;
And labour dire it is, and weary woe :

The Knight of Arts and Industry,
They fit, they loll, turn o'er tome idle rhyme,

And bis achievements fair,
Then, rifing sudden, to the glass they go,

That by his Caflle's overthrow
Or faunter forth, with tottering step and flow :

Scour'd and crowned sere.
This foon too rude an exercise they find;
Strait on the couch their limbs again they throw,

1.
Where hours on ,

SCAP'D the Castle of the fire of Siti,
wird.

For all around, without, and all within,
LXXIII.

Nothing save what delightful was and kind,
Now must I mark the villainy we found ;

Of goodness favouring and a tender mind,
But, ah ! too late, as shall eftfoons be shewn.

E'er rofe to view : but now another strain,
A place here was, deep, dreary, under ground,

Of doleful note, alas! remains behind :
Where fill our inmates, when unpleasing grown, I now must fing of pleafure turn'd to pain,
Diseas'd, and loathsome, privily were thrown.

And of the falle enchanter Indolence complain.
Far from the light of heaven, they languish'd there,
Unpity'd uttering many a bitter groan ;

II.
For of these wretches taken was no care ;

Is there no patron to protect the Muse,
Fierce fiends and hags of hell their only nurses were, and fence for her Parnaffus' barren soil?

To every labour its reward accrues,
LXXIV.

And they are sure of bread who fwink and moil;
Alas! the change! from scenes of joy and reft,

But a fell tribe th' Aonian hive despoil,
To this dark den, where Sickness toss'd alway.

As ruthless wasps oft' rob the painful bee :
Here Lethargy, with deadly Neep opprest,

Thus while the laws not guard that noblest coil,
Stretch'd on his back, a mighty lubbard, lay

Ne for the Mufes other meed decree,
Heaving his fides, and snored night and day;

They praised are alone, and starve right merrily.
To stir him from his traunce it was not eath,
And his half-open'd cyoe he thut Iraitway;

III.
He led, I wot, the softest way to death,

i care pot, Fortune! what you me deny;
And taught withouten pain and arise to yield the You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace;
breath.

You cannot shut the windows of the sky,
LXXV.

Thro' which Aurora shews her brightening face;
Of limbs enormous, but withal unsound,

You cannot bar my conftant feet to trace
Soft-swoln and pale, here lay the Hydropsy : The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve:
Unwieldy man! with belly monstrous round, Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace,
For ever fed with watery supply:

And I their toys to the great children leave :
For still he drank, and yet he still was dry. Of fancy, reafon, virtue, nought can me bereave.
And moping here did Hypochondria fit,
Mother of Spleen, in robes of various dye,

IV.
Who vexed was full oft' with ugly fit ;

Come then, my Muse! and raise a bolder songs
And some her frantic deen’d, and some her deem'd Come, lig no more upon the bed of floth,
a wit,

Dragging the lazy languid line along,

Fond to begin, but still to finish loath,
LXXVI.

Thy half-writ fcrolls all eaten by the moth
A lady, proud she was, of ancient blood, Arise, and sing that generous imp of fame,
Yet oft' her fear her pride made crouchen low ; Who with the fons of Softness nobly wroth,
She felt, or fancy'd, in her flutrering mood, To sweep away this human lumber came,
All the diseases which the spittles know,

Or in a chosen few to rouse the flumbering flame
And fought all phyfick which the shops bestow,
And still new leaches and new drugs would cry,

V.
Her humour ever wavering to and fro;

In Fairy-land chere liv'd a knight of old,
For sometimes she would laugh, and sometimes cry, of features fern, Selvaggio well yclep’d,
Then sudden waxed wroth, and all the knew not a rough unpolish'd man, robust and bold,
why.

But wondrous poor : he neither Tow'd nor reap'd.
LXXVII.

Ne stores in summer for cold winter heap'd;
Fast by her side a liftless maiden pin'd,

In hunting all his days away he wore;
With-aching head, and squeamith heart-burnings ; Now scorch'd by June, now in November feep’d,
Pale, bloated, cold, she seem'd to hate mankind, Now pinch'd by biting January sore,
Yet lov'd in secret all forbidden things.

He fill in woods purlu'd the libbard and the boar.
And here the Tertian Thakes his chilling wings :
The sicepless Gout here counts the crowing cocks ;

VI.
A wolf now gnaws him, now a serpent stings; As he one morning, long before the dawn,
Whilft Apoplexy cramm'd intemperance knocks Prick'd thro' the forest to dislodge his preys.
Down to the ground at once, as butcher felleth ox. 'Deep in the winding bosom of a lawn,

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With wood wild-fring'd, he mark'd a taper's ray,

XII.
That from the beating rain and wintry fray Nor would he scorn to stoop from high pursuits
Did to a lonely cot his steps decoy;

Of heavenly Truth, and practise what she taught.
There, up to earn the needments of the day, Vain is the tree of Knowledge without frats.
He found Dame Poverty, nor fair nor coy; Sometimes in hand t'ie spade or plough he caught,
Her he compress’d, and fill'd her with a lusty boy. Forth-calling all with which boon-earth is fraught;

Sometimes he ply'd the strong mechanic tool,
VII.

Or rear'd the fabric from the finest draught;
Amid the green-wood Nade this boy was bred, And ost' he put himself to Neptune's School,
And grew at last a knight of muckel fame, Fighting with winds and waves on the vext ocean
Of active mind and vigorous lustyhed,

pool.
The Knight of Arts and Industry by name.
Earth was his bed, the boughs his roof did frame;

XIII.
He knew no beverage but the flowing stream; To solace then these tougher toils, he try'd
His talleful well-carn’d food the lylvan game, To touch the kindling canvass into life;
Or the brown fruit with which the woodlands With Nature his creating pencil vy'd
teem :

With Nature, joyous at the mimic strife;
The fame to him glad summer or the winter breme. Or, to such shapes as grac'd Pygmaljen's wife

He hew'd the marble; or with varied fire,
VIII.

He rous'd the trumpet and the martial fife ;
So pass'd his youthly morning, void of care, Or bade the lute sweet tenderness inspire;
Wild as the colts that through the commons run : Or verses fram'd that will might wake Apollo's
For him no tender parents troubled were,

lyre,
He of the forest seem'd to be the fon,
And ceries had been utterly undone,

XIV. But that Minerva pity on hini took,

Accomplish'd thus, he from the woods iffud,
With all the gods that love the rural wonne, Full of great aims, and bent on bold enterprize;
That teach tu tame the soil and rule the cộook ; The work which long he in his bieart had brew'd
Ne did the sacred Nine disdain a gentle louk. Now to perform he ardent did devise,

To wit, a barbarous world to civilize.
IX.

Earth was cill then a boundless forest wild,
Of fertile genius him they nurtur'd well,

Nought to be seen but savage wood and skies; In every science and in every art,

No cities nourish'd arts, no culture smild,
By which mankind the thoughtless brutes excel,

No government, no laws, no gentle manners mild
That can or use, or joy, or grace, impart,
Disclosing all the powers of head and heart :

XV.
Ne were the goouly exercises (par'd
That brace the nerves, or make the limbs alert,

A rugged wight, the worst of brytes, was man
And mix elastic force with firmine's hard :

On his own wretched kind he, ruthless, prey'd; Was ever knight on ground mote be with hin The strongest still the weakest over-san; compar’d.

In every country mighty robbers fway'd,

And guile and ruffian force were all their trade.
X.

Life was a scene of rapine, want, and woe,

Which this brave knight, in noble anger, made Sometimes, with early morn, he mounted gay

To swear he would the rascal rout o'erthrow, The hunter-steed, exulting v'er the dale,

For, by the powers Divịne, it should no more
And drew the roseate breath of orient day;

be lo !
Sometimes, retiring to the secret yale,
Yclad in steel, and bright with burnish'd mail,
He strain'd the bow, or tofs'd the founding spear ;

XVI.
Or darting on the gaol, ouettripp'd the gale;

It woald exceed the purport of my song, Or wheeld the chariot in its mid carcer;

To say how this belt fun, from orient climes Or strenuous wrefled hard with many a tough Came beaming life and beauty all along, compcer.

Before him chasing Indolence and crimes.

Still as he pass'd, the nations he sublimes,
XI.

And calls forth Arts and Virtues with his ray:
At other times he pry'd thro' Nature's fore,

Then Égypt, Greece, and Rome, their goldex Whate'er fhe in th' ethereal round contains,

times Whate'er the hides beneath her verdant floor,

Successive had; but now in ruias gray
The vegetable atid the mineral reigns ;

They liç, to Navih sloth and tyranny a prey.
Or else he Scann'd the globe, those small domains,
Where reities mortals Tuch a turmoil keep,

XVII.
Its 1e38, its floods, its mountains, and its plains ; To crowr. his toils, Sir Industry then spread
But wore he scarci'd the mind, and sous'd from The swelling fail, and made for Britain's coat.
sleep

A sylvan life till then the natives led,
Thofu morial (code whecce we heroic actions reap. lo she brown shades and green-wood forest lost

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came

All careless rambling where it lik’d them moft: | The growth of labouring time, and flow increast; "Their wealth the wild deer bouncing thro' the Unless, as seldom chaunces, it should fall, glade;

That mighty patrons the coy Sisters call "They lodgid at large, and liv'd at Nature's coft ; Up to the sun-fhinc of uncumber'd ease, Save fpear and bow, withouten other aid, Where no rude care the mounting thought may Yet not the Roman steel their naked breast dif- thrall, may'd.

And where they nothing have to do but please :

Ah! gracious God! thou know't they ak no XVIII.

other fecs.
He lik'd the soil, he lik'd the clement skies,
Ile lik'd the verdant hills and flowery plains.

XXIII.
Be this my great, my choten Ille (he cries) But now, alas ! we live too late in time:
This, whilst my labours Liberty sustains,

Our patrons now e'en grudge that little caini, This Queen of Ocean all assault disdains. Except to such as ficek the soothing rhyme; Nor lik'd he less che genius of the land,

And yet, forsooth, they wear Mæcenas' name, I To freedom: apt and persevering pains,

Poor fons of pufc-up Vanity, not Fame. Mild to obey, and generous to command, Unbroken spirits, cheer! still, ftill remains Temper'd by forming Heaven with kindeft,firmest Th'eternal Patron, Liberty! whose flame, hand.

While the protects, inspires the noblest ftrains.

The best, and sweetest far, are toil-created XIX.

gains. Here, by degrees, his master-work arose, Whatever Arts and Industry can frame;

XXIV. Whatever finish'd Agriculture koows,

When as the knight had fram'd, in Britain land, d'air Queen of Arcs! from Heaven itself who A matchless form of glorious government,

In which the sovereign laws alone command, When Eden flourish'd in unspotted fame: Laws stablish'd by the public free consent, And fill with her sweet Innocence we find, Whose majesty is to the sceptre lent; And tender Peace, and joys without a name,

When this great plan, with each dependent art, That, while they ravish, tranquillize the mind :

Was settled firm, and to his heart's content, Nature and Art at once, delight and use com- Then fought he from the toilsome scene to part, bin'd.

And let life's vacant eve breathe quiet thro' the

heart. XX. Then towns he quicken'd by mechanic arts,

XXV.

For this he chose a farm in Deva's vale,
And bid the feryent city glow with toil;
Bad social Commerce raise renowned marts,

Where his long allics peep'd upon the main:

In this calm leat he drew the healthful gale;
Join land to land, and marry soil io foil,
Unite the poles, and without bloody (poil

Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the swain, Bring home of either Ind the gorgeous stores;

The happy monarch of his sylvan train ; Or, îhould despotic rage the world embroil,

Here, lided by the guardians of the fold, Bade tyrants tremble on remote thores,

He walk'd bis rounds, and cheer'd his bleft doWhile o'er the encircling deep Bricannia’s thun His days, the days of unstain'd Nature, rolld,

main : der roars.

Replete with

peace and joy, like patriarchs of oic. XXI.

XXVI. The drooping Muses then he westward callid, Witness, ye lowing Herds! who gave him milk; From the fam'd City by Propontic sea,

Witness, ye Flocks! whose woolly vestments far What time the Turk th' enfeebled Grecian Exceeds soft India's cotton or her ülk; thrallid,

Witness, with autumn charg'd, the nodding car, Thence from cheir cloister'd walks he set them That homeward came beneath fweet evening's free,

ftar,
And brought them to another Caftalie,

Or of September moons the radiance mild:
Where Ilis many a famous nourling breeds; O hide thy head, abominable War!
Or where old Cam soft-paces o'er the lea

Of crimes and ruffian idleness the child:
In pensive mood, and cunes his Doric reeds, From heaven this life ysprung, from hell thy glan
The whilft his flocks at large the lonely shepherd ries vild.
fceds.

XXVII.
XXII.

Nor from this deep retirement banisti'd was
Yet the fine arts were what he finish'd least. Th' amusing care of rural Industry:
For why ? they are che quintessence of all, Still, as with graceful change the seasons pass,

New scenes arise, new landscapes Itrike the eye, Carftantinople.

And all th’enliven'd wountry beautify :

.

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