The Castle of Indolence: An Allegorical Poem. James Thomson

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      "Behold! ye Pilgrims of this Earth, behold!

       "See all but Man with unearn'd Pleaſure gay.

       "See her bright Robes the Butterfly unfold,

       "Broke from her wintry Tomb in Prime of May.

       "What youthful Bride can equal her Array?

       "Who can with her for eaſy Pleaſure vie?

       "From Mead to Mead with gentle Wing to ſtray,

       "From Flower to Flower on balmy Gales to fly,

       "Is all ſhe has to do beneath the radiant Sky.

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      "Behold the merry Minſtrels of the Morn,

       "The ſwarming Songſters of the careleſs Grove,

       "Ten thouſand Throats! that, from the flowering Thorn,

       "Hymn their Good God, and carol ſweet of Love,

       "Such grateful kindly Raptures them emove:

       "They neither plough, nor ſow; ne, fit for Flail,

       "E'er to the Barn the nodding Sheaves they drove;

       "Yet theirs each Harveſt dancing in the Gale,

       "Whatever crowns the Hill, or ſmiles along the Vale.

       </poem

       ===XI.===

       <poem>

       "Outcaſt of Nature, Man! the wretched Thrall

       "Of bitter-dropping Sweat, of ſweltry Pain,

       "Of cares that eat away thy Heart with Gall,

       "And vices, an inhuman Train,

       "That all proceed from ſavage Thirſt of Gain:

       "For when hard-hearted Intereſt firſt began "To poiſon Earth, Aſtræa left the Plain; "Guile, Violence, and Murder ſeiz'd on Man; "And, for ſoft milky Streams, with Blood the Rivers ran.

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      "Come, ye, who ſtill the cumbrous Load of Life

       "Puſh hard up Hill; but as the fartheſt Steep

       "You truſt to gain, and put an End to Strife,

       "Down thunders back the Stone with mighty Sweep,

       "And hurls your Labours to the Valley deep,

       "For-ever vain: come, and, withouten Fee,

       "I in Oblivion will your Sorrows ſteep,

       "Your Cares, your Toils, will ſteep you in a Sea

       "Of full Delight: O come, ye weary Wights, to me!

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      "With me, you need not riſe at early Dawn,

       "To paſs the joyleſs Day in various Stounds:

       "Or, louting low, on upſtart Fortune fawn,

       "And ſell fair Honour for ſome paltry Pounds;

       "Or through the City take your dirty Rounds,

       "To cheat, and dun, and lye, and Viſit pay,

       "Now flattering baſe, now giving ſecret Wounds,

       "Or proul in Courts of Law for human Prey,

       "In venal Senate thieve, or rob on broad High-way.

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      "No Cocks, with me, to ruſtic Labour call,

       "From Village on to Village ſounding clear;

       "To tardy Swain no ſhrill-voic'd Matrons ſquall;

       "No Dogs, no Babes, no Wives, to ſtun your Ear;

       "No Hammers thump; no horrid Blackſmith ſear,

       "Ne noiſy Tradeſman your ſweet Slumbers ſtart,

       "With Sounds that are a Miſery to hear:

       "But all is calm, as would delight the Heart

       "Of Sybarite of old, all Nature, and all Art.

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      "Here nought but Candour reigns, indulgent Eaſe,

       "Good-natur'd Lounging, Sauntering up and down:

       "They who are pleas'd themſelves muſt always pleaſe;

       "On Others' Ways they never ſquint a Frown,

       "Nor heed what haps to Hamlet or in Town.

       "Thus, from the Source of tender Indolence,

       "With milky Blood the Heart is overflown,

       "Is ſooth'd and ſweeten'd by the ſocial Senſe;

       "For Intereſt, Envy, Pride, and Strife are baniſh'd hence.

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      "What, what, is Virtue, but Repoſe of Mind?

       "A pure ethereal Calm! that knows no Storm;

       "Above the Reach of wild Ambition's Wind,

       "Above thoſe Paſſions that this World deform,

       "And torture Man, a proud malignant Worm!

       "But here, СКАЧАТЬ