Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/67

 They talk'd of Virtue, and of Human Bliss. What else so fit for Man to settle well? And still their long Researches met in This, This Truth of Truths, which nothing can : "From Virtue's Fount the purest Joys out-well, "Sweet Rills of Thought that chear the conscious Soul; "While Vice pours forth the troubled Streams of Hell, "The which, howe'er disguis'd, at last with Dole

At length it dawn'd, that fatal Valley gay, O'er which high wood-crown'd Hills their Summits rear. On the cool Height awhile our stay, And spite even of themselves their Senses chear; Then to the Wizard's Wonne their Steps they steer. Like a green Isle, it broad beneath them spred, With Gardens round, and wandering Currents clear, And tufted Groves to shade the Meadow-Bed,