The Castle of Indolence/Canto I
The Caſtle hight of Indolence,
And its falſe Luxury;
Where for a little Time, alas!
We liv'd right jollily.
O Mortal Man, who liveſt here by Toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard Eſtate;
That like an Emmet thou muſt ever moil,
Is a ſad Sentence of an ancient Date;
And, certes, there is for it Reaſon great;
For, though ſometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curſe thy Star, and early drudge and late,
Withouten That would come an heavier Bale,
Looſe Life, unruly Paſſions, and Diſeaſes pale.