Page:The Excursion, Wordsworth, 1814.djvu/291

265 He came, the Ghost of beauty and of health,

The Wreck of gaiety! But soon revived

In strength, in power refitted, he renewed

His suit to Fortune; and she smiled again

Upon a fickle Ingrate. Thrice he rose,

Thrice sunk as willingly. For He, whose nerves

Were used to thrill with pleasure, while his voice

Softly accompanied the tuneful harp,

By the nice finger of fair Ladies, touched

In glittering Halls, was able to derive

Not less enjoyment from an abject choice.

Who happier for the moment?—Who more blithe

Than this fallen Spirit; in those dreary Holds

His Talents lending to exalt the freaks

Of merry-making Beggars,—now, provoked

To laughter multiplied in louder peals

By his malicious wit; then, all enchained

With mute astonishment, themselves to see

In their own arts outdone, their fame eclipsed,

As by the very presence of the Fiend

Who dictates and inspires illusive feats,

For knavish purposes! The City, too,

(With shame I speak it) to her guilty bowers