Page:The Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets, Volume 2.djvu/132

126 'Twas Monk, whom Providence design'd to loose Those real bonds false freedom did impose. The blessed saints that watch'd this turning scene Did from their stars with joyful wonder lean. To see small clues draw vastest weights along, Not in their bulk, but in their order strong. Thus pencils can by one slight touch restore Smiles to that changed face that wept before. With ease such fond chimæras we pursue, As fancy frames for fancy to subdue: But, when ourselves to action we betake, It shuns the mint like gold that chymists make. How hard was then his task, at once to be What in the body natural we see! Man's Architect distinctly did ordain The charge of muscles, nerves, and of the brain, Through viewless conduits spirits to dispense The springs of motion from the seat of sense. 'Twas not the hasty product of a day, But the well ripen'd fruit of wise delay. He, like a patient angler, ere he strook, Would let them play a while upon the hook. Our healthful food the stomach labours thus, At first embracing what it strait doth crush. Wise leaches will not vain receipts obtrude, While growing pains pronounce the humours crude; Deaf to complaints, they wait upon the ill, Till some safe crisis authorise their skill.