"Yet, when this Prodigal returned, the rites Of joyful greeting were on him bestowed, 320 Who, by humiliation undeterred, Sought for his weariness a place of rest Within his Father's gates.--Whence came he?--clothed In tattered garb, from hovels where abides Necessity, the stationary host 325 Of vagrant poverty; from rifted barns Where no one dwells but the wide-staring owl And the owl's prey; from these bare haunts, to which[539] He had descended from the proud saloon, He came, the ghost of beauty and of health, 330 The wreck of gaiety! But soon revived In strength, in power refitted, he renewed His suit to Fortune; and she smiled again Upon a fickle Ingrate. Thrice he rose, Thrice sank[540] as willingly. For he--whose nerves 335 Were used to thrill with pleasure, while his voice Softly accompanied the tuneful harp, By the nice finger of fair ladies touched In glittering halls--was able to derive No[541] less enjoyment from an abject choice. 340 Who happier for the moment--who more blithe Than this fallen Spirit? in those dreary holds His talents lending to exalt the freaks Of merry-making beggars,--now, provoked To laughter multiplied in louder peals 345 By his malicious wit; then, all enchained With mute astonishment, themselves to see In their own arts outdone, their fame eclipsed, As by the very presence of the Fiend Who dictates and inspires illusive feats, 350 For knavish purposes! The city, too, (With shame I speak it) to her guilty bowers Allured him, sunk so low in self-respect As there to linger, there to eat his bread, Hired minstrel of voluptuous blandishment; 355 Charming the air with skill of hand or voice, Listen who would, be wrought upon who might, Sincerely wretched hearts, or falsely gay. --Such the too frequent tenour of his boast[542] In ears that relished the report;--but all 360 Was from his Parents happily concealed; Who saw enough for blame and pitying love. They also were permitted to receive His last, repentant breath; and closed his eyes, No more to open on that irksome world 365 Where he had long existed in the state Of a young fowl beneath one mother hatched, Though from another sprung, different in kind:[543] Where he had lived, and could not cease to live, Distracted in propensity; content 370 With neither element of good or ill; And yet in both rejoicing; man unblest; Of contradictions infinite the slave, Till his deliverance, when Mercy made him One with himself, and one with them that sleep."[544] 375