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There is a time when poets will grow

dull:
I'll ev'n leave verses to the boys at school:
To rules of poetry no more confined,
I'll learn to smoothe and harmonise my mind,
Teach every thought within its bounds to roll,
And keep the equal measure of the soul.

Soon as I enter at my country door,
My mind resumes the thread it dropp'd before;
Thoughts, which at Hyde-park-corner I forgot,
Meet and rejoin me in the pensive grot:
There all alone, and compliments apart,
I ask these sober questions of my heart :-
If, when the more you drink, the more you

crave, You tell the doctor; when the more you have, The more you want, why not with equal ease Confess as well your folly, as disease? The heart resolves this matter in a trice; • Men only feel the smart, but not the vice.'

When golden angels cease to cure the evil, You give all royal witchcraft to the devil; When servile chaplains cry, that birth and place Indue a peer with honor, truth, and grace; Look in that breast, most dirty D~! be fair; Say, can you find out one such lodger there? Yet still, not heeding what your heart can teach, You go to church to hear these flatterers preach.

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221

218 When golden angels. The angel, a gold coin, given by those who came to be touched by the royal hand for the evil.

222 The whole of this passage alludes to a dedication by Mr., afterwards bishop Kennet, to the duke of Devonshire, to whom he was chaplain.

235

Indeed, could wealth bestow or wit or merit, 226 A grain of courage, or a spark of spirit, The wisest man might blush, I must agree, If D *** loved sixpence more than he.

If there be truth in law, and use can give 230 A property, that's yours on which you live: Delightful Abscourt, if its fields afford Their fruits to you,

confesses

you

its lord : All Worldly's hens, nay, partridge, sold to town; His venison too, a guinea makes your own; He bought at thousands, what with better wit You purchase as you want, and bit by bit. Now, or long since, what difference will be

found ? You pay a penny, and he paid a pound.

Heathcote himself, and such large-acred men, Lords of fat E'sham, or of Lincoln-fen, 241 Buy every stick of wood that lends them heat; Buy every pullet they afford to eat; Yet these are wights, who fondly call their own Half that the devil o'erlooks from Lincoln town. The laws of God, as well as of the land, 246 Abhor, a perpetuity should stand: Estates have wings, and hang in fortune's power Loose on the point of every wavering hour, Ready, by force, or of your own accord,

250 By sale, at least by death, to change their lord. • Man?' and for ever?' wretch! what wouldst

thou have? Heir

urges heir, like wave impelling wave.

282 Delightful Abscourt; a farm over-against Hamptoncourt.-Pope.

there are,

All vast possessions, (just the same the case,
Whether you call them villa, park, or chase) 255
Alas, my Bathurst! what will they avail ?
Join Cotswood hills to Saperton's fair dale;
Let rising granaries and temples here,
There mingled farms and pyramids appear ;
Link towns to towns with avenues of oak, 260
Enclose whole downs in walls; 'tis all a joke!
Inexorable death shall level all,
And trees, and stones, and farms, and farmer

fall.
Gold, silver, ivory, vases sculptured high,
Paint, marble, gems, and robes of Persian die,
There are who have not,-and, thank Heaven,

266 Who, if they have not, think not worth their care. Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll

find Two of a face, as soon as of a mind. Why, of two brothers, rich and restless one 270 Ploughs, burns, manures, and toils from sun to

sun; The other slights, for women, sports, and wines, All Townshend's turnips, and all Grosvenor's

mines; Why one like Bu-, with

pay

and scorn content, Bows and votes on, in court and parliament; 275

273 All Townshend's turnips. Lord Townshend, secretary of state to George I. and II. He was fond of agriculture; and was peculiarly proud of his improvements in turnips.

274 One like Bum Bubb Doddington, already mentioned, contemptible fellow, who had the folly to publish his own contemptibility.

a

One, driven by strong benevolence of soul,
Shall fly, like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole ;-
Is known alone to that directing Power,
Who forms the genius in the natal hour;
That God of nature, who, within us still, 280
Inclines our action, not constrains our will;
Various of temper, as of face or frame,
Each individual : his great end the same.

Yes, sir, how small soever be my heap,
A part I will enjoy as well as keep.

285 My heir may sigh, and think it want of

grace A man so poor would live without a place: But sure no statute in his favor says, How free or frugal I shall pass my days: I, who at some times spend, at others spare, 290 Divided between carelessness and care.

277 Fly like Oglethorpe. Warton, with ridiculous panegyric, pronounces Oglethorpe at once a great hero and a great legis. lator.' He had served a good deal in the German armies under Eugene ; and on his return to England, projected a colony in Georgia; for which he set out, with the two Wesleys in his train. He obtained a charter for his colony, and exhibited some Indian chiefs at St. James's. In 1745, as major-general, he commanded a division of cavalry under the duke of Cumberland; but offending him by the apparently slight negligence of taking up his quarters, one night of the march, on the flank of the army, when he was supposed to be in the front, was summarily deprived of his command. A court-martial acquitted him; but he was employed no more. He thenceforth spent his life roving through London society, enjoying and enjoyed, mingling much with men of literature, laughing at all the generals of his day, and indignant, to the last, at the duke of Cumberland. He died, at a very advanced age, with the reputation of a brave man, a man of intelligence, and a man of pleasantry: but higher qualities are required to compound either great heroes or great legislators.

'Tis one thing madly to disperse my store;
Another, not to heed to treasure more;
Glad, like a boy, to snatch the first good day;
And pleased, if sordid want be far away. 295

What is ’t to me, (a passenger, God wot !)
Whether

my

vessel be first-rate or not? The ship itself may make a better figure; But I that sail am neither less nor bigger. I neither strut with every favoring breath, 300 Nor strive with all the tempest in my

teeth : In power, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, placed Behind the foremost, and before the last.

• But why all this of avarice? I have none.' I wish you joy, sir, of a tyrant gone:

305 But does no other lord it at this hour, As wild and mad? the avarice of power? Does neither rage inflame, nor fear appal ? Not the black fear of death, that saddens all? 309 With terrors round, can reason hold her throne, Despise the known, nor tremble at the unknown? Survey both worlds, intrepid and intire, In spite of witches, devils, dreams, and fire ? Pleased to look forward, pleased to look behind, And count each birthday with a grateful mind? Has life no sourness, drawn so near its end? 316 Canst thou endure a foe, forgive a friend ? Has age but melted the rough parts away, As winter-fruits grow mild ere they decay? 319 Or will you think, my friend, your business done, When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one?

Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've play'd, and loved, and eat, and drunk

your fill :

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