John Mitford - Abuse of Poetry lyrics

It cannot be that in the muse's bower Are men, who bartering for their private gain The lustre of that ancient house would stain And, following those who still for place and power Are striving, forfeit all the beauteous dower Bequeathed them--and the virtues' peaceful train Desert, and wisdom with her countenance plain And meek, and learning through the midnight hour Still in his studious hermitage. Who then Seeing the muse's haunts by ruthless feet Are trodden, and by bold and violent men, Would wonder if the bard for scenes more meet, For the lone valley, and the quiet glen, Should quit each venal hall and crowded street?