LXIX.

The gentle knight, who faw their rueful cafe, Let fall adown his filver beard fome tears. "Certes (quoth he) it is not ev❜n in grace, "T' undo the past, and eke your broken years: "Nathlefs, to nobler worlds repentance rears, "With humble hope, her eye; to her is given "A power the truly contrite heart that chears; "She quells the brand by which the rocks are riven; "She more than merely softens, the rejoices Heaven.

LXX.

"Then patient bear the sufferings you have earn'd, "And by these sufferings purify the mind; "Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd: "Or pious die, with penitence refign'd; "And to a life more happy and refin'd, "Doubt not, you shall, new creatures, yet arise. Till then, you may expect in me to find

"One who will wipe your forrow from your eyes, "One who will foothe your pangs, and wing you to

LXXI.

[the skies. They filent hear'd, and pour'd their thanks in tears. For you (refum'd the knight, with fterner tone) "Whose hard dry hearts th' obdurate demon fears, "That villain's gifts will coft you many a groan;` "In dolorous manfion long you must bemoan "His fatal charms, and weep your stains away; "Till, foft and pure as infant goodness grown, "You feel a perfect change: then, who can say, "What grace may yet shine forth in heaven's eternal "day?" LXXII. This

LXXII.

This faid, his powerful wand he wav'd anew :
Instant, a glorious angel-train defcends,
The Charities, to-wit, of rofy hue;

Sweet love their looks a gentle radiance lends,
And with feraphic flame compaffion blends.
At once, delighted, to their charge they fly:
When, lo! a goodly hospital ascends;

In which they bade each lenient aid be nigh, That could the fick-bed fmoothe of that fad company. LXXIII.

It was a worthy edifying fight,

And gives to human-kind peculiar grace, To fee kind hands attending day and night, With tender miniftry, from place to place. Some prop the head; fome from the pallid face Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature sheds; Some reach the healing draught: the whilft, to chace The fear fupreme, around their foften'd beds, Some holy man by prayer all opening heaven difpreds. LXXIV.

Attended by a glad acclaiming train,

Of those he rescued had from gaping hell, Then turn'd the knight; and, to his hall again Soft-pacing, fought of peace the moffy cell: Yet down his cheeks the gems of pity fell, To fee the helpless wretches that remain❜d, There left through delves and deferts dire to yell; Amaz'd, their looks with pale dismay were ftain'd, And fpreading wide their hands they meek repentance feign'd... LXXV. But,

LXXV.

But, ah! their fcorned day of grace was past:
For (horrible to tell !) a defert wild

Before them stretch'd, bare, comfortless, and vast;
With gibbets, bones, and carcafes defil'd.

There nor trim field, nor lively culture smil'd; Nor waving fhade was seen, nor fountain fair; But fands abrupt on fands lay loosely pil'd, [oare, Through which they floundering toil'd with painful Whilft Phoebus fmote them fore, and fir'd the cloudless LXXVI.

Then, varying to a joyless land of bogs,

The fadden'd country a grey waste appear'd ;

[air.

Where nought but putrid steams and noisome fogs
For ever hung on drizzly Aufter's beard;
Or elfe the ground by piercing Caurus fear'd,
Was jagg'd with froft, or heap'd with glazed fnow:
Through thefe extremes a ceafelefs round they fteer'd,
By cruel fiends ftill hurry'd to and fro,

Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn, with many hell-hounds moe.
LXXVII.

The first was with base dunghill rags yclad,
Tainting the gale, in which they flutter'd light;
Of morbid hue his features, funk, and fad;
His hollow eyne shook forth a fickly light;
And o'er his lank jaw-bone, in piteous plight,
His black rough beard was matted rank and vile;
Direful to fee! an heart-appalling fight!

Meantime foul fcurf and blotches him defile;

And dogs, wheree'er he went, still barked all the while.

LXXVIII. The

LXXVIII.

The other was a fell defpightful fiend :

Hell holds none worfe in baleful bower below:

By pride, and wit, and rage, and rancour, keen'd;
Of man alike, if good or bad, the foe:

With nose up-turn'd, he always made a fhew
As if he fmelt fome naufeous fcent; his eye
Was cold, and keen, like blaft from boreal fnow;
And taunts he casten forth most bitterly.

Such were the twain that off drove this ungodly fry.
LXXIX.

Ev'n fo through Brentford town, a town of mud,
An herd of brifly fwine is prick'd along;

The filthy beafts, that never chew the cud,

Still grunt, and fqueak, and fing their troublous fong, And oft they plunge themselves the mire among: But ay the ruthless driver goads them on, And ay of barking dogs the bitter throng Makes them renew their unmelodious moan; Ne ever find they reft from their unresting fone.

To

Το Mr.

THOMSON,

On his unfinished Plan of a Poem, called the CASTLE OF INDOLENCE, in Spenfer's Style.

By

Dr. M ORE L L.

A

I.

S when the filk-worm, erft the tender care

Of Syrian maidens, 'gins for to unfold
From his fleek fides, that now much fleeker are
The gloffy treasure, and soft threads of gold;
In various turns, and many a winding fold,
He spins his web, and as he fpins decays;
Till, within circles infinite enroll'd,
He refts fupine, imprifon'd in the maze,

The which himself did make, the gathering of his days.

II.

So thou, they fay, from thy prolific brain,
A castle, hight of indolence, didst raise;
Where liftless fprites, withouten care or pain,
In idle pleasaunce spend their jocund days,
Nor heed rewardful toil, nor feeken praise.
Thither thou didst repair in luckless hour;
And lulled with thine own enchanting lays,
Didft lie adown, entranced in the bower,

The which thyfelf didit make, the gathering of thy power.
III. But