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Others with tow'ring piles may pleafe the fight,
And in their proud afpiring donies delight;
A nicer touch to the ftretch'd canvaís give,
Or teach their animated rocks to live;
'Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate,
And hold in balance each contending state;
To threaten bold prefumptuous kings with war,
And answer her afflicted neighbour's pray'r.
The Dane and Swede, rous'd up by fierce alarms,
Blefs the wife conduct of her pious arms;
Soon as her fleets appear, their terrors ceafe,
And all the northern world lies hufh'd in peace.
Th'ambitious Gaul beholds, with fecret dread,
Her thunder aim'd at his afpiring head,
And fain her godlike fons would difunite
By foreign gold, or by domeftic fpite;
But ftrives in vain to conquer or divide,
Whom Naffau's arms defend and counfels guide.
Fir'd with the name which I so oft have found
The diftant climes and diff'rent tongues refound,
I bridle in my struggling Mufe with pain,
That longs to launch into a bolder strain.

But I've already troubled you too long,
Nor dare attempt a more advent'rous fong.
My humble verfe demands a fofter theme,
A painted meadow, or a purling ftream;
Unfit for heroes; whom immortal lays,
And lines like Virgil's or like yours,fhould praife

40. The Campaign. Addifon.

To bis Grace the Duke of Marlborough. 1705.
Rheni pacator et Istri

Aufonia's ftates, the victor to restrain,
Oppos'd their Alps and Appenines in vain,
Nor found themielves, with ftrength of rock
immur'd,

Behind their everlasting hills fecur'd;
The rifing Danube its long race began,
And half its course thro' the new conquefts rac
Amaz'd, and anxious for her fov'reigns' fate,
Germania trembled through a hundred ftates;
Great Leopold himself was feiz'd with fear;
He gaz'd around, but faw no fuccour near;
He gaz'd, and half abandon' to defpair
His hopes on Heaven, and confidence in pray

To Britain's queen the nat ons turn their eyes,
On her refolves the western world relics;
Confiding fill, amidit its dire alarms,
In Anna's councils, and in Churchill's arms.
Thrice happy Britain, from the kingdoms rent,
To fit the guardian of the continent!
That fees her braveft fon advanc'd fo high,
And flourishing fo near her prince's eye;
Thy fav'rites grow not up by fortune's fport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court
On the firm bafis of defe t they rife,
From long tried faith, and friendship's holy tics:
Their fovereign's well-diftinguished fmiles they
fhare;

Her ornaments in peace, her ftrength in war;
The nation thanks them with a public voice;
By fhow'rs of blefings Heaven approves their
Envy itfelf is dumb, in wonder loft, [chokej
And factions ftrive who fhall applaud themmot.

Soon as foft vernal breezes warm the sky; Britannia's colours in the zephyrs Ay; Her chief already has his march begun, Croffing the provinces himself had won, Till the Mofelle, appearing from afar, "Omnis in hoc uno variis difcordia ceffit "Ordinibus; laetatur eques, plauditque fenator, Retards the progrefs of the moving war. Delightful tream, had nature bid her fall Votaque patricio certant plebeia favori." Claud. de Laud. Stilic. In Jistant climes far from the perjur'd Gul; "Effe aliquam in terris gentem quæ fua impenfa, fuo But now a purchafe to the fword the lies, labore ac periculo, bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. Her harvefts for uncertain owners rife, Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis homi- Each vineyard doubtful of its matter grows, "Ribus, aut terris continenti junctis præftet. Maria And to the victor's bowl each vintage flows. trijiciat: ne quod toto orbe terrarum injuftum im-The difcontented flades of flaughter'd bolts "perium fit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, potentiffimafint." That wander'd on the banks, her heroes ghots, Liv. Hift. lib. 33. Hop'd, when they faw Britannia's arms app WHILE Crowds of princes your deferts pro- The vengeance due to their great death was ner claim,

56

Proud in their number to enrol your name;
While emperors to you commit their caufe,
And Anna's praifes crown the vast applause:
Accept, great leader, what the mufe recites,
That in ambitious verfe attempts your fights.
Fir'd and tranfported with a theme fo new,
Ten thoufand wonders op'ning to my view
Shine forth at once; fieges and forms appear,
And wars and conquefts fill the important year;
Rivers of blood I fee, and hills of flain,
An Iliad rifing out of one campaign.

The haughty Gaul beheld, with tow'ringpride,
His ancient bounds enlarg'd on ev'ry fide;
Pyrene's lofty barriers were fubdued,
And in the midst of his wide empire stood;

Our Godlike leader, ere the ftream he pafs'd,
The mighty fcheme of all his labours calt.
Forming the wondrous year within his thought,
His bofom glow'd with battles yet unfought.
The long laborious march he first furveys,
And joins the diftant Danube to the Macfe;
Between whofe floods fuch pathlefs forefts grow,
Such mountains rife, fo many rivers flow:
The toil looks lovely in the hero's eyes,
And danger ferves but to enhance the prize.

Big with the fate of Europe, he renews
His dreadful courfe, and the proud foe purfues!
Infected by the burning fcorpion's heat,
The fultry gales round his chaf'd temples beat,
Till on the borders of the Maine he finds

Defenfive fhadows, and refrething winds. Our

Our British youth, with in-born freedom bold, | Thick'ning their ranks, and wedg'd in firm array

Canumber'd fcenes of fervitude behold,
Nations of flaves, with tyranny debas'd,
(Their Maker's image more than half defac'd)
Hourly inftructed, as they urge their toil,
To prize their Queen, and love their native foil.
Still to the rifing fun they take their way
Thro' clouds of duit, and gain upon the day.
When now the Neckar on its friendly coaft
With couling ftreams revives the fainting hoft,
That cheerfully his labours paft forgets,

The clofe compacted Britons win their way;
In vain the cannon their throng'd war defac'd
With tracks of death, and laid the battle waste:
Still preffing forward to the fight, they broke
Thro' flames of fulphur and a night of fimoke,
Till flaughter'd legions fill'd the trench below,
And bore their fierce avengers to the foe.

High on the works the minglinghofts engage,
The battle, kindled into ten-fold rage,
With thow'rs of bullets, and with storms of fire,

The mid-night watches, and the noon-day heats. Burns in full fury; heaps on heaps expire;

O'er proftrate towns and palaces they pafs Bthing revenge; whilft anger and difdain Fev'ry breaft, and boil in ev'ry vein. hatter'd walls, like broken rocks, from far Rep in hideous view, the guilt of war; here the vine o'er hills of ruins climbs, trious to conceal great Bourbon's crimes. length the fame of England's hero drew o to the glorious interview. Souls by instinct to each other turn, alliance, and in friendship burn frays friend hip, while with ftretch'd-out each other, mingling blaze with blaze. courts, and harden'd in the field,

Nations with nations mix'd confus'dly die,
And loft in one promifcuous carnage lie.

How many gen'rous Britons meet their doom,
New to the field, and heroes in their bloom!
Th'illuftrious youths, that left their native shore
To march where Britons never march'd before
(Oh fatal love of fame! oh glorious heat,
Only deftructive to the brave and great!)
After fuch toils o'ercome, fuch dangers paft,
Stretch'd on Bavarian ramparts,breathe their laft.
But hold, my Mufe, may no complaints appear,
Nor blot the day with an ungrateful tear
While Marlb'ro' lives, Britannia's ftars difpenfe
A friendly light, and thine in innocence:
Plunging through feas of blood his fiery steed

Jord for conqueft, and in council skill'd, Where'er his friends retire, or foes fucceed;

rage dwells not in a troubled flood
ting fpirits, and fermenting blood;

Lin the foul, with virtue over-rul'd,
1d by reafon, and by reafon cool`d,
As of peace content to be unknown,

in the field of battle fhewn:
like thefe, in mutual friendship join'd,

Thofe he fupports, thefe drives to fudden flight,
And turns the various fortune of the fight.

Forbear, great man, renown'd in arms, forbear
To brave the thickest terrors of the war;'
Nor hazard thus, confus'd in crowds of foes,
Britannia's fafety, and the world's repose;
Let nations anxious for thy life abate

hovedares entrust the caufe of human kind. This fcorn of danger and contempt of fate:

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graceful fons appear in arms,

He bar'd troops the hero's prefence warms; Conqueft and peace from thy victorious hands; With high hills and rivers all around

Thou liv't not for thy felf; thy Queen demands

Kingdoms and empires in thy fortune join,

Wetland'ring peals of British fhouts refound: And Europe's deftiny depends on thine.

Taking their speed, they march with fresh de-j

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Er for glory, and require the fight.

aunch hound the tremblingdeer purfues,
ells his footsteps in the tainted dews,

e tedious track unrav'lling by degrees:

en the scent comes warm in ev'ry breeze, the near approach, he shoots away full ftretch, and bears upon his prey. march concludes, the various realms are mortal Schellenberg appears at laft: paft; th' afpiring ramparts rife on high, valleys at their feet the trenches lie; nes on batt'ries guard each fatal país, ning deftruction; rows of hollow brafs, behind tube, the dreadful entrance keep, in their wombs ten thousand thunders leep. [fight Churchill owns,charm'd with the glorious march o'erpaid by fuch a promis'd fight. weitern fun now hot a feeble ray, faintly fcatter'd the remains of day: pproach'd; but oh what hofts of foes ever to behold that ev'ning close !

At length the long-difputed pafs they gain,
By crowded armies fortified in vain ;

The war breaks in, the fierce Bavarians yield,
And fee their camp with British legions fill'd.
So Belgian mounds bear on their shatter'd fides
The fea's whole weight, increas'd with fwelling
But if the rushing wave a paffage finds, [tides;
Enrag'd by wat'ry moons, and warring winds,
The trembling peafant fees his country round
Cover'd with tempests, and in oceans drown'd.
The few furviving foes difpers'd in flight
(Refufe of fwords and gleanings of a fight)
In ev'ry rustling wind the victor hear,
And Marlborough's form in ev'ry shadow fear,
Till the dark cope of night with kind embrace
Befriends the rout, and covers their difgrace.

To Donavert, with unrefifted force,
The gay victorious army bends its courfe.
The growth of meadows, and the pride of field's,
Whatever fpoiis Bavaria's fummer yields
(The Danube's great increafe) Britannia fhares,
The food of armies and fupport of wars:
With magazines of death, deftructive balls,
And cannon doom'd to batter Landau's walls;
Bb
'The

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The victor finds each hidden cavern stor'd,
And turns their fury on their guilty lord.
Deluded prince! how is thy greatnefs crofs'd,
And all the gaudy dream of empire loft,
That proudly fet thee on a fancied throne,
And made imaginary realms thy own!
Thy troops, that now behind the Danube join,
Shall fhortly feek for thelter from the Rhine,
Nor find it there! Surrounded with alarms;
Thou hop'ft th' affiftance of the Gallic arms;
The Gallic arms in fafety fhall advance, [France;
And crowd thy ftandards with the pow'r of
While, to exalt thy doom, th' afpiring Gaul
Shares thy destruction, and adorns thy fall.
Unbounded courage and compaffion join'd,
Temp'ring each other in the victor's mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the Hero and the Man complete.
Long did he strive th' obdurate foe to gain
By proffer'd grace, but long he ftrove in vain;
Till, fir'd at length, he thinks it vain to spare
His rifing wrath, and gives a loose to war.
In vengeance rous'd, the foldier fills his hand
With fword and fire, and ravages the land;
A thoufand villages to afhes turns,
In crackling flames a thousand harvests burns.
To the thick woods the woolly flocks retreat,
And mix'd with bellowingherdsconfus'dlybleat,
Their trembling lords the commonfhadepartake,
And cries of infants found in ev'ry brake:
The lift'ning foldier fix'd in forrow stands,
Loth to obey his leader's just commands;
The leader grieves, by gen'rous pity fway'd,
To fee his juft commands fo well obey'd.

But now the trumpet, terrible from far,
In fhriller clangors animates the war;
Confed'rate drums in fuller concert beat,
And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat:
Gallia's proud ftandards, to Bavaria's join'd,
Unfurl their gilded lilies in the wind;
The daring prince his blafted hopes renews,
And, while the thick embattled hoft he views
Stretch'd out in deep array, and dreadful length,
His heart dilates, and glories in his strength.

The fatal day its mighty courfe began, That the griev'd world had long defir'd in vain; States that their new captivity bemoan'd, Armies of martyrs that in exile groanˆd, Sighs from the depth of gloomy dungeons heard, And pray'rs in bitterness of foul preferr'd, Europe's loud cries, that Providence affail'd, And Anna's ardent vows, at length prevail'd: The day was come when Heav'n defign'd to fhew His care and conduct of the world below.

Behold in awful march and dread array The long extended fquadrons thape their way! Death, in approaching terrible, imparts An anxious horror to the braveft hearts; Yet do their beating breasts demand the ftrife, And thirst of glory quells the love of life. No vulgar fears can British minds controul: Heat of revenge and noble pride of foul O'erlook'd the foe, advantag'd by his poft, Lellen his numbers, and contract his hoft;

Though fens and floods poffefs the middle spac That unprovok'd they would have fear'd to pa Nor fens nor floods can stop Britannia's band When herproud foe rang'd ontheirborders ftand

But oh, myMufe, what numbers wilt thoufin To fing the furious troops in battle join'd! Methinks I hear the drum's tumultuous foun The victor's shouts and dying groans confound The dreadful burst of cannon rend the skies, And all the thunder of the battle rife. [prov Twas then great Marlb'ro's mighty foul wa That, in the fhock of charging hofts unmov'd, Amidit confufion, horror, and despair, Examin'd all the dreadful fcenes of war: In peaceful thought the field of death furvey'd To fainting fquadrons fent the timely aid, Infpir'd repuls'd battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel by divine command With rifing tempefts flakes a guilty land, Such as of late o'er pale Britannia pafs'd, Calm and ferene he drives the furious blaft; And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.

But fee the haughtyhousehold-troopsadvance! The dread of Europe, and the pride of France. The war's whole art each private foldier knows, And with a general's love of conqueft glows; Proudly he marches on, and void of fear Laughs at the fhaking of the British spear: Vain infolence! with native freedom brave, The meanest Briton scorns the highest slave; Contempt and fury fire their fouls by turns, Each nation's glory in each warrior burns; Each fights, as in his arm th' important day And all the fate of his great monarch lay: A thousand glorious actions, that might claire Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame, Confus'd in crowds of glorious actions lie, And troops of heroes undiftinguished die, O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate, And not the wonders of thy youth relate! How can I fee the gay, the brave, the young, Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unfung! In joys of conqueft he refigns his breath, And, fill'd with England's glory, smiles in death.

The rout begins, the Gallic fquadrons run; Compell'd in crowds to meet the fate they thun, Thoufands of fiery feeds with woundstransfix'd, Floating in gore, with their dead mafters mix'd, Midit heapsof fpearsandftandardsdriv'n around, Lie in the Danube's bloody whirlpools drown'd. Troops of bold youths,born on the diftant Soane, Or founding borders of the rapid Rhone, Or where the Seine her flow'ry fields divides, Orwhere the Loire thro'windingvineyardsglides, In heaps the rolling billows fweep away, [vey. And into Scythian feas their bloated corps con From Blenheim's tow'rs, the Gaul with wild Beholds the various havoc of the fight; [affright His waving banners, that fo oft had stood Planted in fields of death and streams of blood, So wont the guarded enemy to reach, And rife triumphant in the fatal breach, Or

pierce the broken foe's remoteft lines, The hardy veteran with tears refigns.

Unfortunate Tallard! Oh, who can name
The pangs of rage, of forrow and of fhame,
That with mix'd tumult in thy bofom fwell'd,
When firft thou faw'ft thy braveft troops re-

pell'd,

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In vain Britannia's mighty chief besets
Their fhady coverts and obfcure retreats;
They fly the conqueror's approaching fame,

That bears the force of armies in his name.
Auftria's young monarch, whofe imperial fway
Sceptres and thrones are deftin'd to obey,
Whole boafted ancestry so high extends
That in the Pagan gods his lineage ends,
Comes from afar, in gratitude to own
[fell The great fupporter of his father's throne:
What tides of glory to his bofom ran,

Thine only fon pierc'd with a deadly wound,
Chok'd inhis blood, and gafping on the ground;
Thyfelf in bondage by the victor kept!
The chief, the father, and the captive wept.
An English Mufe is touch'd with generous woe,
And in th' unhappy
man forgets the foe!
Greatly diftrefs'd, thy loud complaints forbear,
Blame not the turns of fate, and chance of war;
Gave thy brave foes their due, nor blush to own
The fatal field by fuch great leaders won,
The field whence fam'd Eugenio bore away
Only the fecond honours of the day.
With foods of gore that from the vanquish'd
The marshes ftagnate, and the rivers fwell.
Mountains of flain lie heap'd upon the ground,
Or mid the roarings of the Danube drown'd;
We captive hofts the conqueror detains
Inful bondage, and inglorious chains;
Eva tale who 'cape the fetters and the fword,
Norfork the fortunes of a happier lord,
Their aging King difhonours, to complete
Mariborough's great work, and finish the defeat.
From Memminghen's high domes, and Aug-
fburg's walls,

The diftant battle drives th' infulting Gauls ;
Freed by the terror of the victor's name,
The refcued ftates his great protection claim;
Whilft Ulm th' approach of her deliverer waits,
And longs to open her obfequious gates.
The hero's breaft ftill fwells with great defigns,
In ev'ry thought the tow'ring genius thines:
If to the foe his dreadful course he bends
Over the wide continent his march extends;
If feges in his labouring thoughts are form'd,
Camps are affaulted, and an army storm'd;
If to the fight his active foul is bent,
The fate of Europe turns on its event.
What diftant land, what region, can afford
An action worthy his victorious fword?
Where will he next the flying Gaul defeat,
To make the feries of his toils complete?
Where the fwoln Rhine rushing with all its
Divides the hoftile nations in its courfe, [force
While each contracts its bounds,or wider grows,
Enlarg'd or ftraighten'd as the river flows,
On Gallia's fide a mighty bulwark stands,
That all the wide-extended plain commands;
Twice, fince the war was kindled, has it tried
The victor's rage, and twice has chang'd its fide;
As oft whole armies, with the prize o'erjoy'd,
Have the long fummer on its walls employ'd.
Hther our mighty chief his arms directs,
Hence future triumphs from the war expects;
And though the dog-ftar had its courfe begun,
Carries his arms ftill nearer to the fun :
Fix'd on the glorious action he forgets
The change of seasons, and increase of heats;

Clafp'd in the embraces of the godlike man!
How were his eyes with pleafing wonder fix'd
To fee fuch fire with so much sweetness mix'd,
Such eafy greatnefs, fuch a graceful port,
So turn'd and finish'd for the camp or court!

Achilles thus was form'd with ev'ry grace,
And Nireus fhone but in the fecond place;
Thus the great father of Almighty Rome
(Divinely flush'd with an immortal bloom
That Cytherea's fragrant breath bestow'd)
In all the charms of his bright mother glow'd.

charm'd,

The royal youth, by Marlborough's presence
Taught by his counfels, by his actions warm'd,
On Landau with redoubled fury falls,
Difcharges all its thunder on his walls;
O'er mines and caves of death provokes the fight
And learns to conquer in the hero's fight.

The British chief for mighty toils renown'd,
Increas'd in titles, and with conquefts crown'd,
To Belgian coafts his tedious march renews,
And the long windings of the Rhine pursues,
Clearing its borders from ufurping foes,
And bleft by rescued nations as he goes.
Treves fears no more, freed from its dire alarms;
And Traerbach feels the terror of his arms:
Seated on rocks her proud foundations shake,
While Marlborough preffes to the bold attack,
Plants all his batt ries, bids his cannon roar,
And fhews how Landau might have fall'nbefore.
Scar'd at his near approach, great Louis fears
Vengeance referv'd for his declining years,
Forgets his thirst of univerfal fway,
And scarce can teach his fubjects to obey ;
His arms he finds on vain attempts employ'd,
Th' ambitious projects for his race deftroy'd,
The works of ages funk in one campaign,
And lives of millions facrific'd in vain.

Such are th' effects of Anna's royal cares;
By her, Britannia, great in foreign wars,
Ranges thro' nations, wherefoe'er disjoin'd,
Without the wonted aid of fea and wind.
By her the unfetter'd Ister's states are free,
And tafte the fweets of English liberty:

But who can tell the joys of thofe that lie
Beneath the conftant influence of her eye!
Whilft in diffufive fhow'rs her bounties fall
Like Heaven's indulgence, and defcend on all,
Secure the happy, fuccour the diftress'd,
Make ev'ry fubject glad,and a whole people bleft.
Thus would I fain Britannia's wars rehearse,
In the smooth records of a faithful verse;
That, if fuch numbers can o'er time prevail,
May tell pofterity the wond'rous tale.
When actions, unadorn'd, are faint and weak,
Cities and countries must be taught to fpeak;
Gods may defcend in fictions from the skies,
And rivers from their oozy beds arise;
Fiction may deck the truth with fpurious rays,
And round the hero cast a borrow'd blaze:
Marlborough's exploits appear divinely bright,
And proudly fhine in their own native light;
Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they
boaft;
[moft.
And those who paint them trueft, praise them

§ 41. An Allegory on Man. Parnell.
A THOUGHTFUL being, long and spare,
Our race of mortals call him Care,
(Were Homer living, well he knew
What name the gods have call'd him too);
With fine mechanic genius wrought,
And lov'd to work, though no one bought.
This being, by a model bred
In Joves's eternal fable head,
Contriv'd a shape empower'd to breathe,
And be the worldling here beneath.

The man rose staring, like a stake,
Wond'ring to fee himself awake!
Then look'd fo wife, before he knew
The business he was made to do,
That, pleas'd to fee with what a grace
He gravely fhew'd his forward face,
Jove talk'd of breeding him on high,
An under-fomething of the sky.

But ere he gave the mighty nod,
Which ever binds a poet's god
(For which his curls ambrofial thake,
And mother Earth's obliged to quake),
He faw mother Earth arife;

She ftoo confefs'd before his eyes;
But not with what we read the wore;
A caftle for a crown before,

Nor with long ftreets and longer roads
Dangling behind her, like commodes:
As yet with wreaths alone the dress'd,
And trail'd a landfcape-painted veft.
Then thrice the rais'd, as Ovid faid,
And thrice the bow'd her weighty head.

Her honours made-Great Jove, fhe cried,
This thing was fashion'd from my fide:
His hands, his heart, his head are mine;
Then what haft thou to call him thine?

Nay, rather afk, the Monarch faid,

W boots his hand, his heart, his head,
Wre what I gave remov'd away?
Thy part's an idle fhape of clay.

2

Halves, more than halves! cried honest Cate Your pleas would make your titles fair; You claim the body, you the foul, But I, who join'd them, claim the whole. Thus with the gods debate hegan, On fitch a trivial caufe as man. And can celestial tempers rage? Quoth Virgil, in a later age.

As thus they wrangled, Time came by
(There's 'none that paint him fuch as I:
For what the fabling ancients fung
Makes Saturn old when Time was young);
As yet his winters had not fhed
Their filver honours on his head;
He just had got his pinions free
From his old fire, Eternity.
A ferpent girdled round he wore,
The tail within the mouth before;
By which our almanacs are clear
That learned Egypt meant the year.
A staff he carried, where on high
A glafs was fix'd to measure by,
As amber boxes made a show
For heads of canes an age ago.
His veft, for day and night, was pied;
A bending fickle arm'd his fide;
And Spring's new months his train ador
The other Seafons were unborn.

Known by the gods, as near he draws,
They make him umpire of the cause.
O'er a low trunk his arm he laid,
Where fince his hours a dial made;
Then, leaning, heard the nice debate,
And thus pronounc'd the words of Fate:

Since body from the parent Earth,
And foul from Jove receiv'd a birth,
Return they where they first began;
But, fince their union makes the man,
Till Jove and Earth shall part these two,
To Care, who join'd them, man is due.

He faid, and fprung with fwift career
To trace a circle for the year;
Where ever fince the Seafons wheel,
And tread on one another's heel.

'Tis well, faid Jove; and, for confent,
Thund'ring he thook the firmament.
Our umpire Time fhall have his way;
With Care I let the creature ftay:
Let bufinefs vex him, av'rice blind,
Let doubt and knowledge rack his mind,
Let error act, opinion speak,
And want afflict, and ficknefs break,
And anger burn, dejection chill,
And joy diftract, and forrow kill;
Till, arm'd by Care, and taught to mow
Time draws the long deftructive blow;
And wafted man, whofe quick decay
Comes hurrying on before his day,
Shall only find by this decree,
The foul flies fooner back to me.

§ 42. The Book-Worm. Parnell.
COME hither, boy, we'll hunt to-day
The Dock-worm, ray'ning beaft of prey!

Produc'd

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