Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/55

XII.

Nor would he scorn to stoop from high Pursuits

Of heavenly Truth, and practise what she taught.
Vain is the Tree of Knowledge without Fruits.
Sometimes in Hand the Spade or Plough he caught,
Forth-calling all with which boon Earth is fraught;
Sometimes he ply'd the strong mechanic Tool,
Or rear'd the Fabrick from the finest Draught;
And oft he put himself to Neptune's School,
Fighting with Winds and Waves on the vext Ocean Pool.

XIII.

To solace then these rougher Toils, he try'd

To touch the kindling Canvass into Life;
With Nature his creating Pencil vy'd,
With Nature joyous at the mimic Strife:
Or, to such Shapes as grac'd Pygmalion's Wife,
He hew'd the Marble; or, with vary'd Fire,
He rous'd the Trumpet and the martial Fife,
Or bad the Lute sweet Tenderness inspire,
Or Verses fram'd that well might wake Apollo's Lyre.

XIV.