For this he chose a farm in Deva's vale,
Where his long allies peep'd upon the main;
In this calm feat he drew the healthful gale;
Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the swain,
The happy monarch of his fylvan train;
Here, fided by the guardians 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.
Witness, ye lowing Herds! who gave him milk;
Witnefs, ye Flocks! whose woolly vestments far
Exceeds foft India's cotton or her filk;
Witness, with autumn charg'd, the nodding car,
That homeward came beneath sweet evening's star.
Or of September moons the radiance mild:
O hide thy head, abominable War!
Of crimes and ruffian idleness the child :
From heaven this life ysprung, from hell thy glories [vild.
Nor from his deep retirement banish'd was
Th' amusing care of rural Industry:
Still, as with grateful change the seasons pass,
New scenes arife, new landscapes strike the eye,
And all th' enliven'd country beautify:
Gay plains extend where marshes slept before;
O'er recent meads th' exulting Areamlets fly;
Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres' flore, Andwoodsimbrown the steep, or wave alongtheshore.
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 therude wild common fann'd,
An happy place; where free, and unafraid,
Amid the flowering brakes each coyer creature
[stray'd.
But in prime vigour what can last for ay?
That foul-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, wife, generous, bold, and [stout.
A rage of pleasure madden'd every breast;
Down to the lowest lees the ferment ran:
To his licentious wish each must be blest,
With joy be fever'd, snatch it as he can.
Thus Vice the standard rear'd; her arrier-ban
Volume II.
Corruption call'd, and loud she gave the word, " Mind, mind yourselves! why should the vulgar man, "The lacquey be more virtuous than his lord ? "Enjoy this span of life! 'tis all the gods afford."
The tidings reach'd to where, in quiet hall, The good old Knight enjoy'd well-earn'd repose. "Come, come, Sir Knight! thy children on thee call: "Come, save us yet, ere ruin round us close! "The demon Indolence thy toils o'erthrows." On this the noble colour stain'd his cheeks, Indignant, glowing through the whitening snows Of venerable eld; his eye full-speaks
His ardent foul, and from his couch at once he breaks.
XXXII.
I will (he cry'd), fo help me, God! destroy
That villain Archimage.-His page then strait
He to him call'd, a fiery-footed boy,
Benempt Difpatch. "My steed be at the gate;
"My bard attend; quick, bring the net of Fate."
This net was twisted by the Sifters three,
Which when once cast o'er harden'd wretch, too late
Repentance comes: replevy cannot be
From the strong iron grafp of vengeful Desliny.
He came, the bard, a little Druid-wight,
Of withered afpect; but his eye was keen,
With sweetness mix'd. In russet brown bedight,
As is his fifter * of the copfes green,
He crept along, unpromifing of mien.
Gross he who judges so. His foul 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.
Come (quoth the Knight), a voicehas reach'dmine 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 flaves,
Must drink a bitter wrathful cup of woe !
But some there be thy fong, as from their graves,
Shall raife. Thrice happy he! whowithout rigour faves.
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.
Mean time the bard on milk-white palfrey rode;
An honeft fober beast, that did not mar
His meditations, but full foftly trode;
And much they moraliz'd as thus yfere they yode.
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.
"Sweetrills of thought that cheer the conscious foul;
"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
XXXVII.
[roll.
At length it dawn'd, that fatal valley gay,
O'er which high wood-crown'd hills their fummits
On the cool height a while our palmers stay, [rear:
And, spite even of themselves, their fenfes cheer;
Then to the vizard's wonne their steps they steer:
Like a green ifle 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 feem'd [glad.
"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,
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