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LVII.

Of all the gentle tenants of the place,
There was a man of special grave remark :
A certain tender gloom o'erfpread his face,
Penfive, not fad, in thought involv'd, not dark,
As foot this man could fing as morning-lark,
And teach the nobleft morals of the heart:
But these his talents were yburied stark ;
Of the fine stores he nothing would impart.
Which or boon Nature gave, or nature-painting Art.
LVIII.

To noontide fhades incontinent he ran,
Where purls the brook with sleep-inviting found;
Or when Dan Sol to flope his wheels began,
Amid the broom he bask'd him on the ground,
Where the wild thyme and camomoil are found:
There would he linger, till the latest ray

Of light fat trembling on the welkin's bound;
Then homeward through the twilight shadows stray,
Sauntering and flow. So had he passed many a day.
LIX.

Yet not in thoughtless slumber were they past :
For oft the heavenly fire, that lay conceal'd
Beneath the fleeping embers, mounted fast,
And all its native light anew reveal'd:

Oft as he travers'd the cerulean field,

And markt the clouds that drove before the wind,
Ten thoufand glorious fyftems would he build,
Ten thousand great ideas fill'd his mind;

But with the clouds they fled, and left no trace behind.

LX. With

LX.

With him was fometimes join'd, in filent walk,
(Profoundly filent, for they never spoke)
One shyer ftill, who quite detefted talk :
Oft, stung by spleen, at once away he broke,
To groves of pine, and broad o'ershadowing oak ;
There, inly thrill'd, he wander'd all alone,
And on himself his penfive fury wroke,
Ne ever utter'd word, fave when firft fhone

The glittering star of eve-" Thank heaven! the day

LXI.

[is done."

Here lurk'd a wretch, who had not crept abroad For forty years, ne face of mortal feen; In chamber brooding like a loathly toad: And fure his linen was not very clean. Through fecret loop-holes, that had practis'd been Near to his bed, his dinner vile he took ; Unkempt, and rough, of squalid face and mien, Our caftle's shame! whence, from his filthy nook, We drove the villain out for fitter lair to look.

LXII.

One day there chaunc'd into these halls to rove
A joyous youth, who took you at first sight;
Him the wild wave of pleasure hither drove,
Before the sprightly tempeft toffing light:
Certes, he was a most engaging wight,
Of focial glee, and wit humane though keen,
Turning the night to day and day to night:
For him the bells had
merry
rung,
If in this nook of quiet bells had ever been.

I ween,

LXIII. But

LXIII.

But not ev❜n pleasure to excefs is good:
What most elates then finks the foul as low:
When fpring-tide joy pours in with copious flood,
The higher ftill th' exulting billows flow,
The farther back again they flagging go,
And leave us groveling on the dreary fhore:
Taught by this fon of joy, we found it fo;
Who, whilst he staid, kept in a gay uproar
Our madden'd caftle all, th' abode of fleep no more.
LXIV.

As when in prime of June a burnish'd fly,
Sprung from the meads, o'er which he sweeps along,
Chear'd by the breathing bloom and vital sky,
Tunes up amid these airy halls his fong,
Soothing at firft the gay repofing throng:

And oft he fips their bowl; or, nearly drown'd,
He, thence recovering, drives their beds among,
And fcares their tender fleep, with trump profound;
Then out again he flies, to wing his mazy round.
LXV.

Another gueft there was, of fenfe refin'd, Who felt each worth, for every worth he had; Serene, yet warm, humane, yet firm his mind, As little touch'd as any man's with bad: Him through their inmoft walks the Mufes lad, To him the facred love of nature lent, And fometimes would he make our valley glad; Whenas we found he would not here be pent, To him the better fort this friendly meffage fent. LXVI. "Come,

LXVI.

"Come, dwell with us! true fon of virtue, come! "But if, alas! we cannot thee perfuade, "To lie content beneath our peaceful dome, "Ne ever more to quit our quiet glade; "Yet when at last thy toils but ill apaid "Shall dead thy fire, and damp its heavenly spark, "Thou wilt be glad to feek the rural fhade, "There to indulge the Mufe, and nature mark: "We then a lodge for thee will rear in Hagley-Park.". LXVII.

Here whilom ligg'd th' Efopus of the age;
But call'd by Fame, in foul ypricked deep,
A noble pride reftor'd him to the stage,
And rouz'd him like a giant from his fleep.
Ev'n from his flumbers we advantage reap:
With double force th' enliven'd fcene he wakes,
Yet quits not nature's bounds. He knows to keep
Each due decorum: now the heart he thakes,

And now with well-urg'd fenfe th' enlighten'd judge-
LXVIII.

[ment takes. A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard befeems; Who, void of envy, guile, and luft of gain, On virtue ftill, and nature's pleasing themes, Pour'd forth his unpremeditated strain : The world forfaking with a calm difdain Here laugh'd he careless in his easy seat ; Here quaff'd encircled with the joyous train, Oft moralizing fage; his ditty fweet He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat.

* Mr. Quin. This character of Mr. Thomfon was written by Lord Lyttelton.

LXIX.

Full oft by holy feet our ground was trod,
Of clerks good plenty here you mote espy.
A little, round, fat, oily man of God,
Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry :
He had a roguish twinkle in his eye,
And fhone all glittering with ungodly dew,
If a tight damfel chaunc'd to trippen by;
Which when observ'd, he shrunk into his mew,
And ftrait would recollect his piety anew.

LXX.

Nor be forgot a tribe, who minded nought
(Old inmates of the place) but state-affairs:
They look'd, perdie, as if they deeply thought;
And on their brow fat every nation's cares.
The world by them is parcel'd out in shares,
When in the Hall of Smoak they congrefs hold,
And the fage berry fun-burnt Mocha bears

Has clear'd their inward eye: then, fmoak-enroll'd, Their oracles break forth mysterious as of old.

LXXI.

Here languid beauty kept her pale-fac'd court:
Bevies of dainty dames, of high degree,

From every quarter hither made refort;

Where, from grofs mortal care and business free,
They lay, pour'd out in ease and luxury.
Or should they a vain fhew of work assume,
Alas! and well-a-day! what can it be?

To knot, to twift, to range the vernal bloom;

But far is caft the diftaff, fpinning-wheel, and loom. LXXII. Their

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