Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/33

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 estrang'd, and Manhood's thorny Ways.
What Transport! To retrace our boyish Plays,
Our easy Bliss, when each Thing Joy supply'd:
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 Houshold 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 too 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.