Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/77

LVI.

"Good Lord! how keen are his Sensations all!

"His Bread is sweeter than the Glutton's Cates;
"The Wines of France upon the Palate pall,
"Compar'd with What his simple Soul elates,
"The native Cup whose Flavour Thirst creates;
"At one deep Draught of Sleep he takes the Night;
"And for that Heart-felt Joy which Nothing mates,
"Of the pure nuptial Bed the chaste Delight,
"The Losel is to him a miserable Wight.

LVII.

"But what avail the largest Gifts of Heaven,

"When sickening Health and Spirits go amiss?
"How tasteless then Whatever can be given?
"Health is the vital Principle of Bliss,
"And Exercise of Health. In Proof of This,
"Behold the Wretch, who slugs his Life away,
"Soon swallow'd in Disease's sad Abyss;
"While he whom Toil has brac'd, or manly Play,
"Has light as Air each Limb, each Thought as clear as Day.

LVIII.