The Castle of Indolence: An Allegorical Poem. James Thomson

The Castle of Indolence: An Allegorical Poem - James Thomson


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       XLVIII.

       XLIX.

       L.

       LI.

       LII.

       LIII.

       LIV.

       LV.

       LVI.

       LVII.

       LVIII.

       LIX.

       LX.

       LXI.

       LXII.

       LXIII.

       LXIV.

       LXV.

       LXVI.

       LXVII.

       LXVIII.

       LXIX.

       LXX.

       LXXI.

       LXXII.

       LXXIII.

       LXXIV.

       LXXV.

       LXXVI.

       LXXVII.

       LXXVIII.

       LXXIX.

       LXXX.

       LXXXI.

       Table of Contents

      O Mortal Man, who liveſt here by Toil,

      Do not complain of this thy hard Eſtate;

      Footnotes

       Table of Contents

      1  Ant

       Table of Contents

      In lowly Dale, faſt by a River's Side,

       With woody Hill o'er Hill encompaſs'd 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 imbrown'd,

       A liſtleſs Climate made, where, Sooth to ſay,

       No living Wight could work, ne cared even for Play.

       Table of Contents

      Was nought around but Images of Reſt:

       Sleep-ſoothing Groves, and quiet Lawns between;

       And flowery Beds that ſlumbrous Influence keſt,

       From Poppies breath'd; and Beds of pleaſant Green,

       Where never yet was creeping Creature ſeen.

       Mean time unnumber'd glittering Streamlets play'd,

       And hurled every-where their Waters ſheen;

       That, as they bicker'd through the ſunny Glade,

       Though reſtleſs ſtill themſelves, a lulling Murmur made.

       Table of Contents

      Join'd to the Prattle of the purling Rills,

       Were heard the lowing Herds along the Vale,

       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 fighting Gale;

       And ſtill a Coil the Graſhopper did keep:

       Yet all theſe Sounds yblent inclined all to Sleep.


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