Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/19

 He ceas'd. But still their trembling Ears retain'd The deep Vibrations of his witching Song; That, by a Kind of Magic Power, constrain'd To enter in, pell-mell, the listening Throng. Heaps pour'd on Heaps, and yet they slip'd along In silent Ease: as when beneath the Beam Of Summer-Moons, the distant Woods among, Or by some Flood all silver'd with the Gleam,

By the smooth Demon so it order'd was, And here his baneful Bounty first began: Though some there were who would not further pass, And his alluring Baits suspected. The Wise distrust the too fair-spoken Man. Yet through the Gate they cast a wishful Eye: Not to move on,, is all they can; For do their very Best they cannot fly,