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XLVII.

Ye guardian spirits, to whom man is dear,

From these foul demons shield the midnight gloom:
Angels of fancy and of love, be near,

And o'er the blank of sleep diffuse a bloom:
Evoke the sacred shades of Greece and Rome,
And let them virtue with a look impart:

But chief, a while, O! lend us from the tomb Those long-lost friends for whom in love we smart, And fill with pious awe and joy-mixt woe the heart.

XLVIII.

Or are you sportive-Bid the morn of youth
Rise to new light, and beam afresh the days
Of innocence, simplicity, and truth;

To cares estranged, and manhood's thorny ways.
What transport, to retrace our boyish plays,

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Our easy bliss, when each thing joy supplied; The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze Of the wild brooks!-But, fondly wandering wide, My Muse, resume the task that yet doth thee abide.

XLIX.

One great amusement of our household was,
In a huge crystal magic globe to spy,
Still as you turn'd it, all things that do pass
Upon this ant-hill earth; where constantly
Of idly-busy men the restless fry

Run bustling to and fro with foolish haste,
In search of pleasures vain that from them fly,
Or which obtain'd the caitiffs dare not taste:

When nothing is enjoy'd, can there be greater waste?

L.

Of vanity the mirror this was call'd.
Here you a muckworm of the town might see,
At his dull desk, amid his legers stall'd,
Eat up with carking care and penurie;
Most like to carcase parch'd on gallow-tree.
A penny saved is a penny got:

Firm to this scoundrel maxim keepeth he,
Ne of its rigour will he bate a jot,

Till it has quench'd his fire, and banished his pot.

LI.

Straight from the filth of this low grub, behold! Comes fluttering forth a gaudy spendthrift heir, All glossy gay, enamel'd all with gold, The silly tenant of the summer-air, In folly lost, of nothing takes he care; Pimps, lawyers, stewards, harlots, flatterers vile, And thieving tradesmen him among them share: His father's ghost from limbo-lake, the while, Sees this, which more damnation doth upon him pile.

LII.

This globe pourtray'd the race of learned men,
Still at their books, and turning o'er the page,
Backwards and forwards: oft they snatch the pen,
As if inspir'd, and in a Thespian rage;

Then write, and blot, as would your ruth engage.
Why, Authors, all this scrawl and scribbling sore?
To lose the present, gain the future age,

Praised to be when you can hear no more,

And much enrich'd with fame when useless worldly store.

LIII.

Then would a splendid city rise to view,
With carts, and cars, and coaches roaring all:
Wide pour'd abroad behold the giddy crew;
See how they dash along from wall to wall!
At every door, hark how they thundering call!
Good lord! what can this giddy route excite?
Why, on each other with fell tooth to fall;

A neighbour's fortune, fame, or peace, to blight, And make new tiresome parties for the coming night.

LIV.

The puzzling sons of party next appear'd,
In dark cabals and nightly junto's met;

And now they whisper'd close, now shrugging rear'd
Th' important shoulder; then, as if to get

New light, their twinkling eyes were inward set.
No sooner Lucifer* recalls affairs,

Than forth they various rush in mighty fret;

When, lo! push'd up to power, and crown'd their cares, In comes another set, and kicketh them down stairs.

LV.

But what most show'd the vanity of life,

Was to behold the nations all on fire,

In cruel broils engag'd, and deadly strife:
Most Christian kings, inflam'd by black desire,
With honourable ruffians in their hire,
Cause war to rage, and blood around to pour:

Of this sad work when each begins to tire,

They set them down just where they were before,

Till for new scenes of woe peace shall their force restore.

*The morning-star.

LVI.

To number up the thousands dwelling here,
An useless were, and eke an endless task;
From kings, and those who at the helm appear,
To gipseys brown in summer-glades who bask.
Yea many a man perdie I could unmask,
Whose desk and table make a solemn show,
With tape-tied trash, and suits of fools that ask
For place or pension laid in decent row;

But these I passen by, with nameless numbers moe.

LVII.

Of all the gentle tenants of the place, There was a man of special grave remark: A certain tender gloom o'erspread his face, Pensive, not sad, in thought involv'd not dark, As soot this man could sing as morning-lark, And teach the noblest 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 shades incontinent he ran,

Where purls the brook with sleep-inviting sound; Or when Dan Sol to slope his wheels began, Amid the broom he bask'd him on the ground, Where the wild thyme and chamomile are found: There would he linger, till the latest ray

Of light sat trembling on the welkin's bound; Then homeward through the twilight shadows stray, Sauntering and slow. 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 sleeping embers, mounted fast,
And all its native light anew reveal'd:

Oft as he travers'd the cerulean field,

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

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

LX.

With him was sometimes join'd, in silent walk,
(Profoundly silent, for they never spoke)
One shyer still, who quite detested talk:
Oft stung by spleen, at once away he broke,
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groves of pine, and broad o'ershading oak; There, inly thrill'd, he wander'd all alone, And on himself his pensive fury wroke,

Ne ever utter'd word, save when first shone

The glittering star of eve-" Thank Heaven! the day is

done."

LXI.

Here lurk'd a wretch, who had not crept abroad

For forty years, ne face of mortal seen;

In chamber brooding like a loathly toad:
And sure his linen was not very clean.

Through secret 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 castle's shame! whence, from his filthy nook,
We drove the villain out for fitter lair to look.

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