Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/14

 Behold the merry Minstrels of the Morn, The swarming Songsters of the careless Grove, Ten thousand Throats! that, from the flowering Thorn, Hymn their Good, and carol sweet of Love, Such grateful kindly Raptures them : They neither plough, nor sow;, fit for Flail, E'er to the Barn the nodding Sheaves they drove; Yet theirs each Harvest dancing in the Gale,

Outcast of Nature, Man! the wretched Thrall Of bitter-dropping Sweat, of Pain, Of cares that eat away thy Heart with Gall, And vices, an inhuman Train, That all proceed from savage Thirst of Gain: For when hard-hearted Interest first began To poison Earth, Astræa left the Plain; Guile, Violence, and Murder seiz'd on Man;