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«Mistrust your feelings, Reason bids you do.
But, gentlemen, indeed I cannot now;
For after all your ergo's, look you there
My hat is greasy, and my coat is bare.
Hail MORAĻ TRUTH! I'm here at least secure,
You'll give me comfort, though you keep me poor.
But say you so ? in truth 'tis something hard,
Virtue dges surely merit a reward.
" Reward ! O, servile, selfish ; ask a hire!"
Raiment and food this body does require :
A prince for nothing may philosophize,
A student can't afford to be so wise.
Sometimes the Stoick’s gloomy walks I try'd,
Wrinkled my forehead, and enlarged my stride,
Despised even þynger, poverty, and pain,
Searching my pockets for a cruşt in vain.
Sometimes in Academus' verdant shade,
With step more graceful I exulting stray'd,
Saw health and fortune join'd with happiness,
And virtues smiling in her social dress ;
On me she did not smile, but rather lour;
I still was wretched, for I still was poor.
Sworn to no master, sometimes I would dwell
With Shaftesbury, sometimes with Mandeville
Would call at every system on my way,
And now with Leibnitz, now with Manes stay ;
But after all my shiftings here and there,
My hat was greasy, and my coat was bare.
Then I beheld niy labours past, and lo!
It was not vanity, and all was woe;
I look'd on learning, and her garb was mean,
Her eyes were hollow, and her cheeks were lean;
Disease and Famine threaten'd in her train,
And Want, who strives to hide her rags in vain;
Her lurid brow a sprig of laurel traced,
On which was mark'd, ‘Unpension’d and Unplac'd.'
I turn'd to Ignorance; and lo she sate
Enthroned beneath a canopy of state;
Before her riches all his bags unty'd,
And ever and anon her wants supply'd,
While on a smiling plenitude of face,
Was clearly read, " a Pension and a Place."
D y on her learning.
In beauty or wit,
No mortal as yet,
To question your empire has dared ;
But men of discerning,
Have thought, that in learning, To yield to a Lady was hard.
Where Pedants give rules, Have reading to females deny'd :
So Papist s refuse,
The Bible to use, Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.
'Twas a female at first,
(Indeed she was curst) In knowledge that tasted delight :
And Sages agree,
Our laws will decree,
To the first possessor the right.
Then bravely, fair dame,
Renew the old claim,
Which to your whole sex doth belong :
And let men receive,
From a second bright Eve,
The knowledge of right and of wrong.
But if Eve the first,
Was so cruelly curst, When only one apple had she :
What punishment new,
Shall be found out for you,
Who have robb’d the whole fruit of the tree.
To the Two Miss Woodwards. The charms of sweet Lydia inspire me,
Her face, shape, and wit, I adore : But Emily's smiling eyes fire me.
With wishes I ne'er felt before.
The bright mind of Lydia's a jewel,
Well set in an elegant frame : But Emily pleases me too well,
To examine what causes my flame.
His measure with Lydia Time loses,
Hours glide like the minutes away :: If Emily her presence refuses,
One moment appears a whole day.
One sister my head so possesses,
My reason with her would take part : But the other that rebel suppresses,
And absolute reigns in my heart.
To musick when gay Lydia bounds,
My fancy too dances the hays: When Emily's spinnet resounds,
I feel on my heart-string she plays.
Fair Lydia all the Graces adorn,
Every word, every look I approve; But Emily's serene as the morn,
And I only know this, that I love.