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He wisely shuns the bold extreme,
Who soon lays by the unequal theme,
Nor runs, with wisdom's sirens caught,

On quicksands swallowing shipwreck'd thought;
But, conscious of his distance, gives
Mute praise, and humble negatives.
In one, no object of our sight,
Immutable, and infinite,
Who can't be cruel or unjust,
Calm and resign'd, I fix my trust;
To him my past and present state
I owe, and must my future fate.
A stranger into life I'm come,
Dying may be our going home,
Transported here by angry fate,
The convicts of a prior state.
Hence, I no anxious thoughts bestow
On matters I can never know:

Through life's foul way, like vagrant, pass'd,

He'll grant a settlement at last;

And with sweet ease the wearied crown,

By leave to lay his being down.

If doom'd to dance the eternal round

Of life, no sooner lost but found,

And dissolution, soon to come,

Like sponge, wipes out life's present sum,
But can't our state of power bereave

An endless series to receive;

Then, if hard dealt with here by Fate,
We balance in another state,
And consciousness must go along,
And sign the acquittance for the wrong.
He for his creatures must decree
More happiness than misery,

Or be supposed to create,
Curious to try, what 'tis to hate;
And do an act, which rage infers,
'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.
Thus, thus I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel with gentle gale;
At helm I make my reason sit,

My crew of passions all submit.
If dark and blustering prove some nights,
Philosophy puts forth her lights;
Experience holds the cautious glass,
To shun the breakers, as I pass,
And frequent throws the wary lead,
To see what dangers may be hid:
And once in seven years I'm seen
At Bath or Tunbridge, to careen.
Though pleased to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way,
With store sufficient for relief,
And wisely still prepared to reef;
Nor wanting the dispersive bowl
Of cloudy weather in the soul,
I make, (may Heaven propitious send
Such wind and weather to the end!)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,
Life's voyage to the world unknown.

PRIOR.

HENRY AND EMMA;

AND

OTHER POEMS.

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PUBLISHED SEPT. 1.1824; BY JOHN SHARPE, LONDON.

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