Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys;
Let nature rest: And when the taste of joy
Grows keen, indulge; but fhun fatiety.
'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft.
But him the least the dull or painful hours
Of life opprefs, whom fober Senfe conducts,
And Virtue through this labyrinth we tread.
Virtue and Senfe I mean not to disjoin;
Virtue and Sense are one: And truft me, he
Who has not virtue is not truly wife.
Virtue (for mere good-nature is a fool)
Is fenfe and fpirit, with humanity:
"Tis fometimes angry, and its frown confounds;
"Tis even vindictive, but in vengeance juft.
Knaves fain would laugh at it; fome great ones dare;
But at his heart the moft undaunted fon
Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms.
To nobleft uses this determines wealth:
This is the folid pomp of profperous days;
The peace and fhelter of adverfity.
And if you pant for glory, build your fame
On this foundation, which the fecret fhock
Defies of Envy and all-fapping Time.
The gaudy glofs of Fortune only strikes
The vulgar eye: The fuffrage of the wife,
The praise that's worth ambition is attain'd
By Senfe alone, and dignity of mind.
Virtue, the strength and beauty of the foul,
Is the best gift of heaven: A happiness
That even above the fmiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great Nature's favourites: A wealth
That ne'er encumbers, nor to baser hands
Can be transferr'd: It is the only good
Man juftly boasts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd;
Or dealt by chance, to fhield a lucky knave,
Or throw a cruel fun-shine on a fool.
But for one end, one much-neglected use,
Are riches worth your care (for Nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied)
This noble end is to produce the Soul:
To fhew the virtues in their fairest light;
To make Humanity the Minifter
Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast
That gen'rous luxury the Gods enjoy.
Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage Sometimes declaim'd. Of Right and Wrong he taught Truths as refin'd as ever Athens heard ;*
And (ftrange to tell!) he practis'd what he preach'd... A
AUGHTER of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breaft,
Whose iron scourge and tott'ring hour,
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy fire to fend to earth
Virtue, his darling child, defign'd,
To thee he gave the heav'nly birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year the bore:
What forrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe.
Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leifure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The fummer Friend, the flatt'ring Foe;
By vain Profperity receiv'd,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd.
Wisdom in fable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, filent maid,
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy folemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the genʼral friend,
With Justice, to herself fevere,
And Pity, dropping soft the fadly pleafing tear.
Oh, gently on thy fuppliant's head,
Dear Goddess, lay thy chaft'ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band,
(As by the impious thou art feen)
With thund'ring voice and threat'ning mien,
With fcreaming Horror's funeral cry,
Despair and fell Disease, and ghaftly Poverty.
Thy form benign, oh Goddefs, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philofophic train be there
To foften, not to wound my heart.
The gen'rous spark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a man.
NELESTIAL maid! receive this pray'r,
If e'er thy beam divine
Should gild the brow of toiling care,
And blefs a hut like mine.
Let humble worth, without a fear,
Approach my ready door,
Nor let me ever see a tear,
Regardless, from the poor!
O blefs me with an honeft mind,
Above all selfish ends,
Humanely warm to all mankind,
And cordial to my friends.
With confcious truth and honour ftill
My actions let me guide,
And have no fear, but that of ill,
No fcorn, but that of pride.
Thus form'd, thus happy, let me dare
On Heav'n's dread King to gaze,
Conclude my night in ardent pray'r,
And wake my morn with praise.
That hence my foul may hope to prove
The utmost faints can know;
And fhare His gracious fmile above,
Whofe laws the kept below.
WO honeft tradefmen, meeting in the Strand,
Tne took the other briskly by the hand;
Hark ye faid he, 'tis an odd ftory this
About the crows!-I don't know what it is,
Replies his friend.-No! I'm furpriz'd at that;
Where I come from it is the common chat :
But you
fhall hear an odd affair indeed!.
And, that it happen'd, they are all agreed:
Not to detain you from a thing so strange,
A gentleman, that lives not far from 'Change,
This week, in fhort, as all the Alley knows,
Taking a puke, has thrown up Three black crows!
Impoffible!Nay, but 'tis really true;
I had it from good hands, and fo may you-
From whofe, I pray ?-So having nam'd the man,
Straight to enquire his curious comrade ran.
Sir, did you tell, relating the affair-
Yes, fir, I did; and if it's worth your care,
Afk Mr Such-an-one, he told it me,
But, by the bye, 'twas Two black crows, not Three.
Refolv'd to trace so wondrous an event,
Whip, to the third, the virtuofo went.
Sir-and fo forth
Why, yes, the thing is fact,
Tho' in regard to number not exact';
It was not Two black crows, 'twas only one,
The truth of that you may depend upon.
The gentleman himself told me the cafe
Where may I find him? Why, in fuch a place.
Away he went, and having found him out, Sir, be fo good as to refolve a doubt
Then to his last informant he referr'd,
And begg❜d to know, if true what he had heard; Did you, fir, throw up a black crow?-NOT I— Blefs me!-how people propagate a lie!
|