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Not stronger were of old the giant crew,
Who fought to pull high Jove from regal state;
Tho' feeble wretch he seem’d, of fallow hue,
Certes, who bides his grasp will that encounter rue.


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For whomsoe'er the villain takes in hand,
Their joints unknit, their sinews melt apace, ,
As lithe they grow as any willow wand,
And of their vanish'd force remains no trace :
So when a maiden fair, of modest grace,
In all her buxom blooming May of charms,
Is seized in some losel's hot embrace.
She waxeth very weakly as she warms,
Then, fighing, yields her up to love's delicious liarms,


Wak'd by the crowd, flow from his hench arose
A comely full-spread porter, swoln with sleep,
His calm, broad, thoughtless, aspect breath'd repofa,
And in sweet torpor he was plunged deep,
Ne could himself from ceaseless yawning keep;
While o'er his eyes the drowsy liquor ran,
Thro' which his half-wak’d soul would faintly peep,
Then taking his black ftaff he callid his man,
And rous'd himself as much as rouse himself he can.



The lad leap'd lightly at his master's call :
He was, to weet, a little roguish page,
Save sleep and play who minded nought at all,
Like moit the untaught Atriplings of his age.
This boy he kept each band to disengage,
Garters and buckles, task for him unfic,
But ill-becoming his grave personage,
And which his portly paunch would not permit,
So this same limber page to all performed it.


Mean time the master-porter wide display'd
Great store of caps, of Nippers, and of gowns,
Wherewith he those who enter'd in array'd,
Loose as the breeze that plays along the downs,
And waves the summer-woods when evening frowns,
O fair undress! best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And heightens ease with grace. This done, right fain,
Sir Porter fat him down, and turn' to sleep again,


Thus easy rob’d, they to the fountain fped,
That in the middle of the court up-threw
A stream, high spouting from its liquid bed,
And falling back again in drizzly dew ;
There each deep draughts, as deep he thirsted, drew.


It was a fountain of Nepenthe rare,
Whence, as Dan Homer fings, huge pleasaunce grew,
And sweet oblivion of vile earthly care :
Fair gladsome waking thoughts, and joyous dreams more

[fair, XXVIII,

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This rite perform'd, all inly pleas'd and ftill,
Withouten tromp, was proclamation made;

6 Ye sons of Indolence! do what you will,
" And wander where you lift, thro' hall or glade ;
“ Be no man's pleasure for another staid ;
6 Let cach likes him beft his hours employ,
66 And curs'd be he who minds his neighbour's trade !
“ Here dwells kind ease and unreproving joy :
• He little merits bliss who others can annoy."


Strait of these endless numbers, "fwarming round,
As thick as idle motes in sunny ray,
Not one eftfoons in view was to be found,
But every man strolld off his own glad way ;
Wide o'er this ample court’s blank area,
With all the lodges that thereto pertain'd,
No living creature could be seen to stray,
While solitude and perfect filence "reign’d,
So that to think you dreamt you almost was constrain'd.

per leitt


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As when a fhepherd of the Hebrid-ifles,
Plac'd far amid the melancholy main,
(Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles,
Or that aerial beings sometimes deign
To stand embodied to our senses plain)
Sees on the naked hill or valley low,
The whilft in ocean Phæbus dips his wain,
A vast assembly moving to and fro,
Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous show,


Ye Gods of Quiet, and of Sleep profound!
Whose soft dominion o'er this Castle sways,
And all the widely-filent places round,
Forgive me, if my trembling pen displays
What never yet was sung in mortal lays.
But how shall I attempt such arduous string,
I who have spent my nights and nightly days
In this soul-deadening place, loose-loitering?
Ah! how shall I for this uprear my moulted wing?


Come on, my Muse! nor floop to low despair,
Thou imp of Jave! touch'd by celestial fire,
Thou yet fhalt fing of war and actions fair,
Which the bold sons of Britain will inspire ;
Ofancient bards thou yet shalt sweep the lyre,
Vol. VI. 23.



Thou yet shalt tread in Tragic pall the flage,
Paint love's enchanting woes, the hero's ire,
The sage's calm, the purior's noble rage,
Dathing corruption down thro' every worthless age. .


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The doors, that knew po fhrill alarming bell,
Ne cursed knocker ply'd by villain's hand,
Self-open'd into halls, where who can tell
What elegance and grandeur wide expand,
The pride of Turkey and of Persia land?
Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets.spread,
And couches stretch'd around in seemly band,
And endless pillows rise to prop

the head ; So that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed.


And every where huge cover'd tables food,
With wines high flavnur'd and rich viands crown'd;
Whatever sprightly juice or taflcful food
On the green bofom of this earth are found,
And all oid Ocean genders in his round:
Some hand unseen these filently display’d,
E’en undemanded by a sign or found ;
You need but wish, and, instantly obey'd,
Fair rang’d the duhes rose, and thick the glasses'play'd.


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