The Castle of Indolence: An Allegorical Poem. James Thomson

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СКАЧАТЬ and late, Withouten That would come an heavier Bale, Looſe Life, unruly Paſſions, and Diſeaſes pale.

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      1 ↑ Ant

II.

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      In lowly Dale, faſt by a River's Side,

       With woody Hill o'er Hill encompaſs'd round,

       A moſt enchanting Wizard did abide,

       Than whom a Fiend more fell is no where found.

       It was, I ween, a lovely Spot of Ground;

       And there a Seaſon atween June and May,

       Half prankt with Spring, with Summer half imbrown'd,

       A liſtleſs Climate made, where, Sooth to ſay,

       No living Wight could work, ne cared even for Play.

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      Was nought around but Images of Reſt:

       Sleep-ſoothing Groves, and quiet Lawns between;

       And flowery Beds that ſlumbrous Influence keſt,

       From Poppies breath'd; and Beds of pleaſant Green,

       Where never yet was creeping Creature ſeen.

       Mean time unnumber'd glittering Streamlets play'd,

       And hurled every-where their Waters ſheen;

       That, as they bicker'd through the ſunny Glade,

       Though reſtleſs ſtill themſelves, a lulling Murmur made.

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      Join'd to the Prattle of the purling Rills,

       Were heard the lowing Herds along the Vale,

       And Flocks loud-bleating from the diſtant Hills,

       And vacant Shepherds piping in the Dale;

       And now and then ſweet Philomel would wail,

       Or Stock-Doves plain amid the Foreſt deep,

       That drowſy ruſtled to the fighting Gale;

       And ſtill a Coil the Graſhopper did keep:

       Yet all theſe Sounds yblent inclined all to Sleep.

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      Full in the Paſſage of the Vale, above,

       A ſable, ſilent, ſolemn Foreſt ſtood;

       Where nought but ſhadowy Forms were ſeen to move,

       As Idleſs fancy'd in her dreaming Mood. And up the Hills, on either Side, a Wood Of blackening Pines, ay waving to and fro, Sent forth a ſleepy Horror through the Blood; And where this Valley winded out, below, The murmuring Main was heard, and fearcely heard, to flow.

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      A pleaſing Land of Drowſy-hed it was:

       Of Dreams that wave before the half-ſhut Eye;

       And of gay Caſtles in the Clouds that paſs,

       For ever fluſhing round a Summer-Sky:

       There eke the ſoft Delights, that witchingly

       Inſtil a wanton Sweetneſs through the Breaſt,

       And the calm of Pleaſures always hover'd nigh;

       But whate'er ſmack'd of Noyance, or Unreſt,

       Was far far off expell'd from this delicious Neſt.

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      The Landſkip ſuch, inſpiring perfect Eaſe,

       Where Indolence (for ſo the Wizard hight)

       Cloſe-hid his Caſtle mid embowering Trees,

       That half ſhut out the Beams of Phœbus bright,

       And made a Kind of checker'd Day and Night.

       Mean while, unceaſing at the maſſy Gate,

       Beneath a ſpacious Palm, the wicked Wight

       Was plac'd; and to his Lute, of cruel Fate,

       And Labour harſh, complain'd, lamenting Man's Eſtate.

VIII.

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      Thither continual Pilgrims crouded ſtill,

       From all the Roads of Earth that paſs there by:

       For, as they chaunc'd to breathe on neighbouring Hill,

       The Freſhneſs of this Valley ſmote their Eye,

       And drew them ever and anon more nigh,

       'Till cluſtering round th' Enchanter falſe they hung,

       Ymolten with his Syren Melody;

       While o'er th' enfeebling Lute his Hand he flung,

       And to the trembling Chords theſe tempting Verſes ſung:

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