I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers,
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go
Where Universal Love not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their sons;
From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression.
But I lose

Myself in Him, in Light ineffable!

Come thou, expressive silence, muse His praise.

ΙΙΟ

115

FROM THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE

CANTO I

The Castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;

Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.

I

O MORTAL man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate;
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date:

And, certes, there is for it reason great;

For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail, And curse thy star, and early drudge and late, Withouten that would come a heavier bale, Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.

5

ΤΟ

15

II

In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,

With woody hill o'er hill encompassed round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,

Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.

It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;

And there a season atween June and May,

Half prankt with spring, with summer half im-
browned,

A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.

20

III

Was nought around but images of rest:

Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between: And flowery beds that slumbrous influence kest, From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green, Where never yet was creeping creature seen. Mean-time, unnumbered glittering streamlets played, 25 And hurled every where their waters sheen;

That, as they bickered through the sunny glade, Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.

IV

Joined to the prattle of the purling rills

Were heard the lowing herds along the vale, 30 And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills, And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:

And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;
Yet all these sounds yblent, inclined all to sleep.

V

Full in the passage of the vale, above,

A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;

Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move, As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood:

And up the hills, on either side, a wood

Of blackening pines, ay waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,

The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.

VI

A pleasing land of drowsy-hed it was,

Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
Forever flushing round a summer-sky:
There eke the soft delights, that witchingly
Instil a wanton sweetness through the breast,
And the calm pleasures always hovered nigh;
But whate'er smacked of noyance, or unrest,
Was far, far off expelled from this delicious nest.

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40

45

50

VII

55

The landskip such, inspiring perfect ease,
Where INDOLENCE (for so the wizard hight)
Close-hid his castle, mid embowering trees,
That half shut out the beams of Phoebus bright,
And made a kind of checkered day and night.
60 Meanwhile, unceasing at the massy gate,

Beneath a spacious palm, the wicked wight
Was placed; and, to his lute, of cruel fate
And labour harsh complained, lamenting man's estate.

355

XL

A certain music, never known before,
Here lulled the pensive, melancholy mind;
Full easily obtained. Behooves no more,
But sidelong, to the gently waving wind,
To lay the well-tuned instrument reclined;
From which, with airy fingers light,

Beyond each mortal touch the most refined,

The god of winds drew sounds of deep delight; 360 Whence, with just cause, harp of Æolus it hight.

XLI

Ah me! what hand can touch the string so fine?

Who up the lofty diapason roll

Such sweet, such sad, such solemn airs divine,

Then let them down again into the soul:

Now rising love they fanned; now pleasing dole
They breathed, in tender musings, thro' the heart;
And now a graver sacred strain they stole,
As when seraphic hands a hymn impart:
Wild warbling nature all; above the reach of art!

365

XLII

Such the gay splendour, the luxurious state,
Of Caliphs old, who on the Tigris' shore,
In mighty Bagdat, populous and great,

Held their bright court, where was of ladies store;
And verse, love, music, still the garland wore:
When sleep was coy, the bard, in waiting there,
Cheered the lone midnight with the muse's lore;
Composing music bade his dreams be fair,
And music lent new gladness to the morning air.

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375

XLIII

Near the pavilions where we slept, still ran
Soft tinkling streams, and dashing waters fell,
And sobbing breezes sighed, and oft began
(So worked the wizard) wintry storms to swell,
As heaven and earth they would together mell:
At doors and windows, threatening, seemed to call
The demons of the tempest, growling fell,

Yet the least entrance found they none at all;
Whence sweeter grew our sleep, secure in massy hall.

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