But certes forely funk with woe Sir Topaz fees the Elphin fhow, When Oberon crys, 66 a man is near, With that Sir Topaz, hapless youth! For als he been a mifter wight "Ah Lofell vile, at once they roar ; "And little skill'd of fairie lore, Thy caufe to come, we know: "Now has thy keftrell courage fell ; And fairies, fince a lye you tell; "Are free to work thee woe." Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire The captive upward flung; There like a tortoise in a fhop He dangled from the chamber-top, The The revel now proceeds apace, They fit, they drink, and eat; The time with frolic mirth beguile, And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while 'Till all the rout retreat. . By this the ftars began to wink, For never spell by fairie laid With strong enchantment bound a glade, Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, Then deem'd the dole was o'er : But wot ye well his harder lot? This tale a Sybil-nurse ared; She foftly ftroak'd my youngling head, And when the tale was done, "Thus fome are born, my fon, fhe cries, "With bafe impediments to rife, "And fome are born with none. "But "But virtue can itself advance "To what the fav'rite fools of chance "By fortune feem'd defign'd: "Virtue can gain the odds of fate, And from itself shake off the weight BY No more I waste the wakeful night, Intent with endless view to pore The schoolmen and the fages o'er: Where Where once again the fpangled fhow The left prefents a place of graves, Time was, like thee they life poffeft, Thofe graves, with bending ofier bound, The flat fmooth ftones that bear a name, The chiffel's flender help to fame, (Which ere our fet of friends decay Whofe dead in vaulted arches lie, Whofe pillars fwell with fculptur'd stones, Ha! while I gaze, pale Cynthia fades, And all with fober accent cry, Think, mortal, what it is to die. Now from yon black and fun'ral yew, O'er the long lake and midnight ground) Thus fpeaking from among the bones. When men my scythe and darts supply, How great a king of fears am I ! They view me like the laft of things; They make, and then they dread my flings, No more my spectre-form appears. Death's |