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But soon the gath'ring tempests pour,

| Here Obligation, e'en beneath the wing And all the sky deform;

That hatches it to life, will fix a sting: The gale becomes a whirlwind's roar, Here worth is trampled down by mounted The sigh a raging storm.


And Modesty by Av'rice push'd aside. For Care and Sorrow's morbid gloom,

Such slow discernment guides the stupid And heart-corroding strife,

crowd, * And sickness pointing to the tomb,

That Impudence for Talent is allow'd :
Await the noon of life.

In Life's true masquerade fools are so blind,
That half a thin disguise will cheat mankind:
Here Ostentation weak expedients tries,
To lead from happiness our wand'ring eyes:
Thou would'st do good-but be thou pure as


With ev'ry kindness let thy bosom glow; WORLD.

Detraction's puis’nous breath thy fame shall

blot, BIDLAKE.

Or Envy's microscope pry out a spot! Oft have I seen when musing on the shore, | Has then this sickly world no cordial balm? Unskilful infants grasp th' unwieldy oar, | This storm of passion no delightful calm ? Push the frail bark into the swelling main, Yet as the traveller 'mid dreary wastes Borne by the rapid tide, pant to regain Here meets a flower-there a fountain The less'ning land, and, shrieking weep too tasteslate

As stars that aid the gloom of during night, The gaping horrors of tempestuous fate!

So scatter'd worth diffuses partial light; True picture of our unsuspecting age,

De'r all our ills a self-born radiance sheds, Who long to stretch where fatal billows rage:

| More bright, like phosphorus as darkness 'Gainst our own heaven like angels we rebel, spreads. And quit the realms where during raptures

Let potent Wisdom smooth the wrinkled dwell;

brow, Pant for a wing to range the World around,

And sweet Complacence soften all below. The World-how swoons my soul to hear

See in each rising Sun new comfort giv'n the sound;

And when it sets behold a nearer Heav'n! The World—where Pleasure flies the grasp

The few rare gems of Friendship here iming hand,

prove And Hope builds palaces on shifting sand: | As fading emblems of Eternal Love! Where Treachery talks with sweetly melting

Of horrid words that turn to gall and wo:
Confederacies of profit or of vice,
Where Friendship's only firm as faithless
ice :

When potent Avarice casts a golden ray,
Dissolves its brittle mass and floats away :

Fix'd in the breast where pride or int’rest

Time, swift time from years your motion And Love, a secondary passion, lives;

stealing, Where children cherisb’d by Affection's ray, Unperceived bath sober manhood brought; Long in the dust the partial sire to lay: Truth, her pure and humble forms revealing Tho' daily fondness beains the constant Peoples fancy's fairy-land with thought : smile,

Then the heart, no longer prone to roam, And only wisely keeps its own awhile. Loves, loves best, the quiet bliss of home.



SELF-FLATTERED, unexperienced, high in hope,
When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gay,
We cut our cable, launch into the world,
And fondly dream each wind and star our friend :
All in some darling enterprise embark'd;
But where is he can fathom its event!
Amid a multitude of artless hands,
Ruin's sure perquisite, her lawful prize!
Some steer aright, but the black blast blows hard,
And puffs them wide of hope; with hearts of proof,
Full against wind and tide, some win their way,
And when strong effort has deserv'd the port,
And tugg'd it into view, 'tis won, 'tis lost !
They strike! and while they triumph they expire !
One Cæsar lives : a thousand are forgot.





These hairs of age are messengers

Once in the flight of ages past
Which bid me fast, repent, and pray; There liv'd a man—and who was he?
They be of death the harbingers,

Mortal! how'er thy lot be cast,
That do prepare and dress the way : That man resembled thee!
Wherefore I joy that you may see
Upon my head such hairs to be.

Unknown the region of his birth,

The land in which he died unknown, They be the lines that lead the length His name hath perish'd from the earth, How far my race was for to run,

This truth survives alone
They say my youth is fled with strength,
And now old age is well begun;

That joy, and grief, and hope, and fear, The which I feel, and you may see

Alternate triumphd in his breast, Upon my head such lines to be.

His bliss and wo, a smile, a tear!

Oblivion hides the rest.
They be the strings of sober sound,
Whose music is harmonical :

The bounding pulse, the languid limb,
Their tunes declare, a time from ground The changing spirits rise and fall,
I came, and how thereto I shall :

We know that these were felt by him, Wherefore I joy that you may see

For these are felt by all. Upon my head such strings to be.

He suffer'd--but his pangs are o'er, God grant to those that white hairs have Enjoy'd—but bis delights are fled,

No worse them take than I have meant; Had friends his friends are now no more That after they be laid in grave

And foes-his foes are dead. Their souls to joy, their lives well spent. God grant likewise that you may see He lov'd—but whom he lov'd, the grave Upon your head such hairs to be.

Hath lost in its unconscious womb;

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CONSEQUENCES OF THE FALL. Its breath was cold, and made the sportive POLLOK.


Stagnant, and dull, and heavy, round the HEAR what they were : The progeny of Sin wheels Alike, and oft combined; but differing much Of life. The roots of that whereon it blew In mode of giving pain. As felt the gross Decayed, and with the genial soul no more Material part, when in the furnace cast, Held sympathy; the leaves, the branches So felt the soul, the victim of Remorse.

drooped, It was a fire which on the verge of God's And mouldered slowly down to formless Commandments burned, and on the vitals fed dust; Of all who passed. Who passed, there met Not tossed and driven by violence of winds, Remorse ;

But withering where they sprung, and rotA violent fever seized his soul; the heavens ting there. Above, the earth beneath, seemed glowing Long disappointed, disappointed still, brass,

The hopeless man, hopeless in his main wish, Heated seven times; he heard dread voices As if returning back to nothing, felt; speak,

In strange vacuity of being hung, And mutter horrid prophecies of pain, And rolled, and rolled his eye on emptiness, Severer and severer yet to come ;

That seemed to grow more empty every hour. And as he writhed and quivered, scorched

within, The Fury round his torrid temples flapped Her fiery wings, and breathed upon his lips! THE DISTEMPER OF THE MIND. And parched tongue, the withered blasts of

THOMSON. hell. It was the suffering began thou sawest

The distempered mind In symbol of the worm that never dies. Has lost that concord of harmonious powers

Which forms the soul of happiness, and all The other, Disappointment seemed | Is off the poise within ; the passions all Negation of delight. It was a thing Have burst their bounds, and Reason half Sluggish and torpid, tending towards death, extinct,

Or impotent, or, else approving, sees Hate, unbelief, and blasphemy of God; The foul disorder. Senseless and deform'd, Envy and slander, malice and revenge; Convulsive Anger storms at large; or, pale And murder, and deceit, and every birth, And silent, settles into fell revenge.

Of damned sort, was progeny of pride. Base Envy withers at another's joy,

It was the ever-moving, acting force,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach. The constant aim and the most thirsty wish
Desponding Fear, of feeble fancies full, Of every sinner unrenewed to be
Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. A god; in purple or in rags, to have
Even Love itself is bitterness of soul, Himself adored. Whatever shape or form
A pensive anguish pining at the heart; His actions took, wbatever phrase he threw
Or sunk to sordid interest, feels no more About his thoughts, or mantle o'er his life,
That noble wish, that never cloy'd desire, To be the highest was the inward cause
Which, selfish joy disdaining, seeks alone Of all; the purpose of the heart to be
To bless the dearest object of its flame. Set up, admired, obeyed.
Hope sickens with extravagance; and

Of life impatient, into madness swells,
Or in dead silence wastes the weeping hours.


P. FLETCHER. These, and a thousand mixed emotions more,

Next brave Philotimus in post did ride, From everchanging views of good and ill, Like rising ladders was his climbing mind; Form'd' infinitely various, vex the mind His high-flown thoughts, had wings of With endless storm; whence deeply rank- | courtly pride, ling, grows

Which by foul rise to greatest height inThe partial thought, a listless unconcern,

clin'd; Cold and averting from our neighbour's good, His heart aspiring swell'd until it burst; Then dark Disgust, and Hatred, minding But when he gain'd the top, with spite Wiles,

accurst, Coward Deceit, and ruffian Violence: Down would he fling the steps by which he At last, extinct each social feeling, fell

clamber'd first. And joyless inhumanity pervades And petrifies the heart. Nature, disturb’d, His head's a shop furnish'd with looms of Is deem’d, vindictive, to have chang'd her state: course.

His brain the weaver, thoughts are shut

tles light, With which, in spite of heav'n, he weaves

his fate;

Honour his web: thus works he day and PRIDE,


Till fates cut off his thread; so heapeth POLLOK.

sins, PRIDE, self-adoring pride, was primal cause And plagues, nor once enjoys the place Of all sin past, all pain, all wo to come.

he wins; unconquerable pride! first, eldest Sin, But where his old race ends, there his new Great fountain-head of evil! highest source, race begins. Whence flowed rebellion 'gainst the Omnipotent,

Ah, silly man, who dream'st that honour Whence hate of man to man, and all else ill. |

stands Pride at the bottom of the human heart

In ruling others, not thyself !-thy slaves Lay, and gave root and nourishment to all

Serve thee, and thou thy slaves :-in iron That grew above. Great ancestor of vice!


Thy servile spirit prest with wild passions

AVARICE. raves. Wouldst thou live honour'd, clip ambi

SPENSER tion's wing;

AND greedy Avarice by him did ride, To reason's yoke thy furious passions bring. I Thrice noble is the man, who of himself is

Upon a camell loaden all with gold;

Two iron coffers bong on either side, king.

With precious metall full as they might

hold, And in his lap an heape of coine he told; For of his wicked pelf his god he made,

And unto hell himselfe for money sold : ENVY.

Accursed usury was all his trade,

And right and wrong ylike in equal ballance SPENSER.

waide. And next to him malicious Envy rode Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw His life was nigh unto death's dore yplaste; Between his cankred teeth a venemous

And thread-bare cote, and cobled shoes, i tode,

hee ware ; That all the poison ran about his jaw ; 1

No scarfe good morsell all his life did taste, But in wardly he chawed bis owne maw

But both from backe and belly still did At neibors welth that made him ever sad ;

spare, For death it was when any good he saw,

To fill his bags, and richesse to compare: And wept, that cause of weeping none he

Yet childe ne kinsman living had he none had;

To leave them to; but thorough daily care But when he hearde of harme he wexed

To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne, wondrvus glad.

He led a wretched life, unto himselfe un


All in a kirtle of discoloured say

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies; And in his bosome secretly there lay

suffise, An hateful snake, the which his taile

Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest

store : uptyes In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.

Whose need had end, but no end covertise; Stil as be rode, he gnasht his teeth to see

Whose wealth was want, whose plenty Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse,

made him pore;

Who had enough, yet wished ever more. And grudged at the great felicitee

A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand Of proud Lacifera and his own companee.

A grievous gout tormented him full sore,

That well he could not touch, nor goe, He hated all good works and vertuous

nor stand. deeds,

| Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this And him no less than any like did use;

faire band. And who with gratious bread the hungry

His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;
So every good to bad he doth abuse.
And eke the verse of famous poets witt

He does backbite, and spitefull poison

SPENSER. spues From leprous mouth on all that ever writt, And him beside rides fierce revenging Sach one vile Envy was, that third in row

Wrath did sitt.

Upon a lion, loth for to be led ;


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