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The Castle of Indolence.
LXII.
A joyous Youth, who took you at first Sight;
Him the wild Wave of Pleasure hither drove,
Before the sprightly Tempest tossing light:
Certes, he was a most engaging Wight,
Of social Glee, and Wit humane though keen,
Turning the Night to Day and Day to Night;
For him the merry Bell had rung, I ween,
If in this Nook of Quiet Bells had ever been.
LXIII.
What most elates then sinks the Soul so low;
When Spring-Tide Joy pours in with copious Flood,
The higher still th' exulting Billows flow,
The farther back again they flagging go,
And leave us groveling on the dreary Shore:
Taught by this Son of Joy, we found it so;
Who, whilst he staid, kept in a gay Uproar
Our madden'd Castle all, th' Abode of Sleep no more.
LXIV.