To ftir him from his traunce it was not eath,
And his half-open'd eyne he shut ftraitway;
He led, I wot, the fofteft way to death,

And taught, withouten pain and ftrife to yield the breath.

LXXV.

Of limbs enormous, but withal unfound,
Soft-fwoln and pale, here lay the Hydropfy ::
Unwieldy man! with belly monftrous round,.
For ever fed with watery fupply:

For ftill he drank, and yet he fill was dry.
And moping here dld Hypochondria fit,
Mother of Spleen, in robes of various dye,
Who vexed was full oft' with ugly fit,

And fome her frantic deem'd, and fome her deem'd a wit..
LXXVI:

A lady proud fhe was, of ancient blood,

Yet oft' her fear her pride made crouchen low;
She felt, or fancy'd, in her fluttering mood,
All the difeafes which the fpittles know,

And fought all phyfic which, the fhops beftow,
And fill new leaches and new drugs would try,
Her humour ever wavering to and fro;

For fometimes fhe would laugh, and fometimes cry,
Then fudden waxed wroth, and all fhe knew not why.
LXXVII.

Faft by her fide a listless maiden pin'd,

With aching head, and fqueamish heart-burnings ;
Pale, bloated, cold, fhe feem'd to hate mankind,
Yet lov'd in fecret all forbidden things..

And here the Tertian fhakes his chilling wings:

The

The fleepless Gout here counts the crowing cocks; A wolf now gnaws him, now a ferpent flings; While Apoplexy cramm'd Intemperance knocks: Down to the ground at once, as butcher felleth ox,

THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
CANTO IL.

The Knight of Arts and Industry,
And his atchievements fair,

That by his Caftle's overthrow
Secur'd and crowned were.

I.

ESCAP'D the Caftle of the fire of Sin,

Ah ! where shall I fo fweet a dwelling find? For all around, without, and all within, Nothing fave what delightful was and kind, Of goodness favouring and a tender mind, E'er rofe to view: but now another ftrain, Of doleful note, alas! remains behind: Imuft now fing of pleasure turn'd to pain, And of the falfe enchanter Indolence complain..

II.

Is there no patron to protect the Mufe,

And fence for her Parnaffus' barren foil ?

To every labour its reward accrues,

And they are fure of bread who swink and moil;
But a fell tribe th' Aonian hive defpoil.

As

As ruthless wafps oft' rob the painful bee:
Thus while the laws not guard that nobleft toil.
Ne for the Mufes other meed decree,

They praised are alone, and starve right merrily,
III.

I care not, Fortune! what you me deny ;
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace;
You cannot fhut the windows of the fky,
Thro' which Aurora fhews her brightening face:
You cannot bar my conflant feet to trace
The woods and lawns, by living ftream, at eve:
Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace,

And I their toys to the great children leave:
Of fancy, reafon, virtue, nought can me bereave...

IV.

Come then, my Mufe! and raise a bolder fong;
Come, lig no more upon the bed of floth,
Dragging the lazy languid line along, bo..
Fond to begin, but still to finish loath,
Thy half-writ ferolls all eaten by the moth::
Arife, and fing that generous imp of fame,
Who with the fons of Softness nobly wroth,
To sweep away this human lumber came,

Or in a chofen few to roufe the flumbering flame..

V.

In Fairy-land there liv'd a knight of old.
Of feature ftern, Salvaggio well yclep'd,.
A rough unpolifh'd man, robust and bold,
But wond'rous poor: he neither fow'd nor reap'd,
Ne flores in fummer for cold winter heap'd;

In

In hunting all his days away he wore ;

Now fcorch'd by June, now in November steep'd, Now pinch'd by biting January fore,

He ftill in woods pursu'd the libbard and the boar
VI.

As he one morning, long before the dawn,
Prick'd thro' the foreft to diflodge his prey,
Deep in the winding bofom of a lawn,

With wood wild-fring'd, he mark'd a taper's ray,
That from the beating rain and wintry fray
Did to a lonely cot his steps decoy ;

There, up to earn the needments of the day,
He found Dame Poverty, nor fair nor coy ;

Her he comprefs'd, and fill'd her with a lufty boy.
VII.

Amid the green-wood fhade this boy was bred,
And grew at last a knight of muckel fame,
Of active mind and vigorous luftyhed,

The Knight of Arts and Induftry by name,
Earth was his bed, the boughs his roof did frame;
He knew no beverage but the flowing ftream;
His tafteful well-earn'd food the fylvan game,
Or the brown fruit with which the woodlands teem:
The fame to him glad fummer or the winter breme.
VIII.

So pafs'd his youthly morning, void of care,
Wild as the colts that through the commons run;
For him no tender parents troubled were,

He of the foreft feem'd to be the fon,

And certes had been utterly undone,

But

But that Minerva pity of him took,
With all the gods that love the rural wonne,

That teach to tame the foil and rule the crook ;
Ne did the facred Nine difdain a gentle look.
IX.

Of fertile genius, him they nurtur'd well,
In every fcience and in

every art.

By which mankind the thoughtless brutes excel
That can or ufe, or joy, or grace, impart,
Difclofing all the powers of head and heart:
Ne were the goodly exercises fpar'd,

That brace the nerves, or make the limbs alert,

And mix elaftic force with firmnefs hard :

Was never knight on ground mote be with him compar'd.
X.

Sometimes, with early morn, he mounted gay
The hunter fleed, exulting o'er the dale,

And drew the roseate breath of orient day;
Sometimes, retiring to the secret vale,
Yclad in fteel, and bright with burnish'd mail,
He ftrain'd the bow, or tofs'd the founding spear ;
Or darting on the goal, outftripp'd the gale ;

Or wheel'd the chariot in its mid-career;

Or ftrenuous wrestled hard with many a tough compeer.
XI.

At other times he pry'd thro' Nature's store,
Whate'er fhe in th' ethereal round contains,
Whate'er fhe hides beneath her verdant floor,
The vegetable and the mineral reigns;

Or else he scann'd the globe, thofe fmall domains,

Where