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How widow'd ev'ry thought of ev'ry joy!
Thought, busy thought! too busy for my peace!
Through the dark postern of time long elapsed,
Led softly, by the stillness of the night,
Led, like a murderer, (and such it proves!)
Strays (wretched rover !) o'er the pleasing past:
In quest of wretchedness perversely strays,
And finds all desert now; and meets the ghosts
Of my departed joys, a num'rous train!
I rue the riches of my former fate;
Sweet Comfort's blasted clusters I lament;
I tremble at the blessings once so dear,

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And ev'ry pleasure pains me to the heart.

Yet why complain? or why complain for one?

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Hangs out the sun his lustre but for me,
The single man? are angels all beside?
I mourn for millions; 'tis the common lot:
In this shape or in that has Fate entail'd

222. Widow'd: Stripped.

:

224. Postern of time: Back door or gate of time. Allusion is made to a small private door in the rear wall of a castle or fortification, the passage to which was usually narrow and dark.

229. Ghosts, etc: Mere images of my departed joys.

231. I rue, &c.: I regret the riches of my former condition, ere these sad bereavements were encountered.

232. Comfort's blasted clusters: A beautiful allusion to a fruitful grape vine prematurely injured by the frost.

237. Are angels all beside? Are none of the human race mortal but myself; are they angels removed beyond the reach of sorrow?

239. Has Fate entailed: The primary idea expressed by the word Fate being false, it should not have been used by a Christian poet. The best apology that can be made for him, is to suppose that he uses it as a brief expression of the same import as Divine Providence. According to many heathen Philosophers, fate, or destiny, was a secret and invisible power, or virtue, which with incomprehensible wisdom regulated all those occurrences of this world which to human eyes appear irregular and fortuitous. The Stoics, on the other hand, understood by destiny a certain concatenation of things, which from all eternity follow each other of absolute necessity,

The mother's throes on all of woman born,
Not more the children than sure heirs of pain.

EVILS THAT BESIEGE MANKIND.

War, Famine, Pest, Volcano, Storm, and Fire,
Intestine broils, Oppression, with her heart

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Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind.

God's image, disinherited of day,

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Here, plunged in mines, forgets a sun was made;
There, beings, deathless as their haughty lord,

Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life;

And plough the winter's wave and reap despair.
Some for hard masters, broken under arms,

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In battle lopp'd away with half their limbs,

Beg bitter bread through realms their valour saved,
If so the tyrant or his minion doom.
Want and incurable disease, (fell pair!)

On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize
At once, and make a refuge of the grave.
How groaning hospitals eject their dead!
What numbers groan for sad admission there!
What numbers, once in Fortune's lap high-fed,
Solicit the cold hand of charity!

To shock us more, solicit it in vain!

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there being no power able to interrupt their connexion. To this invisible power even the gods were compelled to succumb. See Brande's Dictionary. 246. Forgets a sun was made: He has been so long engaged under ground in mining operations, without coming up to the light, that he forgets the existence of the sun: of course he foregoes the pleasures and advantages of his delightful beams. It is said, that in some of the deep mines in England rooms are constructed for the accommodation of families; and that children are there born, and arrive at maturity, without ever seeing the wonders and beauties of the world above ground.

250. Broken under arms, &c.: Injured in military service, with half their limbs lopp'd away in battle. Other editions place a comma after away which obscures the sense, unless we give an unauthorized meaning to the word before it.

Ye silken sons of Pleasure! since in pains

You rue more modish visits, visit here,

And breathe from your debauch; give, and reduce
Surfeit's dominion o'er you. But so great

Your impudence, you blush at what is right.

DISEASE AND DEATH ARE UNDISCRIMINATING.

Happy! did sorrow seize on such alone:
Not prudence can defend, or virtue save;
Disease invades the chastest temperance,

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And punishment the guiltless; and alarm,

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Through thickest shades, pursues the fond of peace.

Man's caution often into danger turns,

And, his guard falling, crushes him to death.

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And truest friends, through error, wound our rest.
Without misfortune what calamities!

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And what hostilities without a foe!

262-3. Since in pains you rue, &c.: Since, in a state of pain, (engendered by disease) you lament more fashionable visits-visits to places of dissipation, more fashionable and more common than the visits to a hospital here recommended. Visit here: visit the groaning hospitals (257).

264. Give, and reduce, &c.: Spend some of your money upon the needy objects you will find in the hospital; and thus have less to spend upon yourself in excessive sensual gratifications.

267. Such alone: The sons of pleasure (262).

270. The guiltless: That is, those comparatively so.

273. His guard: That structure which had been erected for a defence. 275. Our very wishes, &c.: That is, our very wishes, even when the objects were attained, have not given us the felicity which we anticipated.

280-1. Without misfortune, &c.: That is, although we should be exempt from signal adversities, yet there are calamities to be encountered; and though we have no open foe, we meet with events hostile to our peace and welfare

Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth.
But endless is the list of human ills,

And sighs might sooner fail than cause to sigh.

THE MAP OF EARTH, A TRUE MAP OF MAN.

A part how small of the terraqueous globe

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Is tenanted by man! the rest a waste,

Rocks, deserts, frozen seas, and burning sands!

Wild haunts of monsters, poisons, stings, and death.

Such is earth's melancholy map! but far

More sad! this earth is a true map of man:

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So bounded are its haughty lord's delights

To woe's wide empire, where deep troubles toss,

Loud sorrows howl, envenom'd passions bite,

Rav'nous calamities our vitals seize,

And threat'ning Fate wide opens to devour.

295

In

HUMAN HAPPINESS EVANESCENT.

What then am who sorrow for myself?
age, in infancy, from others' aid

Is all our hope; to teach us to be kind—
That Nature's first, last lesson to mankind:
The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels:
More gen'rous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts;
And conscious virtue mitigates the pang.
Nor virtue more than prudence bids me give
Swoln thought a second channel; who divide,
They weaken, too, the torrent of their grief.

284. Than cause to sigh, should fail.

295. Fate: Death, or the grave.

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305

301. While it sinks, exalts: While it sinks our spirits, exalts our character, improves our feelings.

303-4. Bids me give swoln thought a second channel: That is, bids me relieve myself of excessive grief by learning to pity the woes of others; or, bids me not confine the torrent of grief to my own sufferings, but also to direct it generously to those of others. A swollen torrent is reduced by being conducted in part into a second channel.

Take, then, O world! thy much indebted tear;

How sad a sight is human happiness

To those whose thought can pierce beyond an hour!

O thou! whate'er thou art, whose heart exults!
Would thou I should congratulate thy fate?

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I know thou wouldst; thy pride demands it from me.
Let thy pride pardon what thy nature needs,

The salutary censure of a friend.

Thou happy wretch! by blindness thou art blest;

By dotage dandled to perpetual smiles.

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Know, smiler! at thy peril art thou pleased;

Thy pleasure is the promise of thy pain.
Misfortune, like a creditor severe,
But rises in demand of her delay;

She makes a scourge of past prosperity,

To sting thee more, and double thy distress.

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THE FAVOURS OF FORTUNE MAY JUSTLY CAUSE ALARM.

Lorenzo, Fortune makes her court to thee:

306. Thy much indebted tear: The tear I have long owed thee.

321. To sting thee more, &c.: This passage suggests a somewhat similar remark of Cæsar, in his Commentaries, Book I. ch. 14. "Consuêsse enim Deos immortales, quo gravius homines ex commutatione rerum doleant, quos pro scelere eorum ulcisci velint, his secundiores interdum res et diuturniorem impunitatem concedere."

322. Lorenzo: It has been disputed whether the individual bearing this name, and so frequently addressed in this poem, was the son of the author, (which was for a time the common opinion), or a fictitious character, which has, however, its counterpart in almost every community. Evidence may be collected from the poem itself and known incidents, to show that the former opinion is unfounded. He is never addressed, or spoken of, as his son, and things are attributed to him which seem not to be consistent with tha opinion; for example, in the line here quoted, it is said, "Fortune makes her court to thee." In Night V. he is represented as "burning for the sublime of life, to hang his airy seat on high." In Night VIII. he is described as having "travelled far;" and in Night V.,

"So wept Lorenzo fair Clarissa's fate;

Who gave that angel boy on whom he dotes."

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