The Castle of Indolence.
45
VIII.
Wild as the Colts that through the Commons run:
For him no tender Parents troubled were,
He of the Forest seem'd to be the Son,
And certes had been utterly undone;
But that Minerva Pity of him took,
With all the Gods that love the Rural Wonne,
That teach to tame the Soil and rule the Crook;
Ne did the sacred Nine disdain a gentle Look.
IX.
In every Science, and in every Art,
By which Mankind the thoughtless Brutes excel,
That can or Use, or Joy, or Grace impart,
Disclosing all the Powers of Head and Heart.
Ne were the goodly Exercises spar'd,
That brace the Nerves, or make the Limbs alert,
And mix elastic Force with Firmness hard:
Was never Knight on Ground mote be with him compar'd.
X.