See her bright robes the butterfly unfold, 75 80 "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, 85 Such grateful kindly raptures them emove! 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. 90 "Outcast of Nature, man! the wretched thrall And, for soft milky streams, with blood the rivers ran. "O grievous folly! to heap up estate, When, sudden, comes blind unrelenting Fate, To toil for what you here, untoiling, may obtain." He ceased. But still their trembling ears retained To enter in, pell-mell, the listening throng: Heaps poured on heaps, and yet they slipped along In silent ease; as when beneath the beam Of summer moons, the distant woods among, 115 Or by some flood all silvered with the gleam, The soft-embodied fays through airy portal stream. By the smooth demon so it ordered was, And here his baneful bounty first began, Though some there were who would not further pass, 120 And his alluring baits suspected han The wise distrust the too fair-spoken man: Yet through the gate they cast a wishful eye; 125 Not to move on, perdie, is all they can, But often each way look and often sorely sigh. 130 135 Waked by the crowd, slow from his bench arose And roused himself as much as rouse himself he can. 140 The lad leaped lightly at his master's call: 145 Save sleep and play who minded naught at all, This boy he kept each band to disengage, 150 But ill becoming his grave personage, And which his portly paunch would not permit; So this same limber page to all performed it. Meantime the master-porter wide displayed 155 160 Sir Porter sat him down, and turned to sleep again. Thus easy robed, they to the fountain sped There each deep draughts, as deep he thirsted, drew: Whence, as Dan Homer sings, huge pleasaunce grew, Fair gladsome waking thoughts, and joyous dreams more fair. 165 170 This rite performed, all inly pleased and still, "Ye sons of Indolence, do what you will, And wander where you list through hall or glade; 175 Be no man's pleasure for another stayed; Let each as likes him best his hours employ, And cursed be he who minds his neighbour's trade! Here dwells kind Ease and unreproving Joy: He little merits bliss who others can annoy." 180 Strait of these endless numbers, swarming round Not one eftsoons in view was to be found, But every man strolled off his own glad way: 185 With all the lodges that thereto pertained, So that to think you dreamt you almost was constrained. The doors, that knew no shrill alarming bell So that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed. And everywhere huge covered tables stood, 190 195 With wines high-flavoured and rich viands crowned; 200 Whatever sprightly juice or tasteful food On the green bosom of this earth are found, And all old ocean genders in his round: Some hand unseen these silently displayed, Here freedom reigned, without the least alloy; 205 210 215 The rooms with costly tapestry were hung, Or of Arcadian or Sicilian vale: Reclining lovers, in the lonely dale, Poured forth at large the sweetly tortured heart. 220 Or, looking tender passion, swelled the gale, And taught charmed Echo to resound their smart, While flocks, woods, streams, around, repose and peace impart. Those pleased the most, where, by a cunning hand, What time Dan Abraham left the Chaldee land, And pastured on from verdant stage to stage, 225 Where fields and fountains fresh could best engage. 230 Toil was not then; of nothing took they heed But with wild beasts the sylvan war to wage, And o'er vast plains their herds and flocks to feed: Blest sons of Nature they! true Golden Age indeed! Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy halls, 235 240 Or savage Rosa dashed, or learnèd Poussin drew. Each sound, too, here to languishment inclined, 245 At distance rising oft, by small degrees Nearer and nearer came, till o'er the trees It hung and breathed such soul-dissolving airs As did, alas! with soft perdition please: 250 The listening heart forgot all duties and all cares. A certain music, never known before, 255 |