OF TEMPER.
109
In heavy air; for round this orb was roll'd
A circling vapour, dull, and damp, and cold.
"Here," says Sophrosyne, "those beings dwell,
Who wanted soul to act or ill or well;
Who saunter'd thoughtless thro' their mortal time;
Without a care, a virtue, or a crime;
Here still they saunter in this languid scene:
But pass the dozing crowd, and mark their queen,"
And now, slow-riding on a tortoise' back,
Her features lifeless, and each fibre slack,
Full in their view the nymph Indifference came;
The quick Serena soon perceiv'd her name;
For, as in solemn creeping state she rode,
In her lax hand she held fair Greville's ode.
Ne'er did the Muse from her sweet treasure cull
Incense so precious for a Power so dull.
Still, as she mov'd along her even way,
The heavy goddess tried to read the lay;
But at each pause her inattentive eye
Stray'd from the paper, which the held awry;
A circling vapour, dull, and damp, and cold.
"Here," says Sophrosyne, "those beings dwell,
Who wanted soul to act or ill or well;
Who saunter'd thoughtless thro' their mortal time;
Without a care, a virtue, or a crime;
Here still they saunter in this languid scene:
But pass the dozing crowd, and mark their queen,"
And now, slow-riding on a tortoise' back,
Her features lifeless, and each fibre slack,
Full in their view the nymph Indifference came;
The quick Serena soon perceiv'd her name;
For, as in solemn creeping state she rode,
In her lax hand she held fair Greville's ode.
Ne'er did the Muse from her sweet treasure cull
Incense so precious for a Power so dull.
Still, as she mov'd along her even way,
The heavy goddess tried to read the lay;
But at each pause her inattentive eye
Stray'd from the paper, which the held awry;
