Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/63

 As nearer to his Farm you made Approach, He polish'd Nature with a finer Hand: Yet on her Beauties durst not Art incroach; 'Tis Art's alone these Beauties to expand. In graceful Dance immingled, o'er the Land, Pan, Pales, Flora, and Pomona play'd: Even here, sometimes, the rude wild Common An happy Place; where free, and unafraid,

But in prime Vigour what can last for ? That foul-enfeebling Wizard , I whilom sung, wrought in his Works decay: Spred far and wide was his curs'd Influence; Of Public Virtue much he dull'd the Sense, Even much of Private; eat our Spirit out, And fed our rank luxurious Vices: whence The Land was overlaid with many a Lout;