The young who labour, and the old who rest.
Is sick? The Man of Ross relieves,

any

Prescribes, attends, the med'cine makes, and gives.
Is there a variance? Enter but his door,

Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more.
Despairing quacks with curses fled the place,
And vile attornies, now a useless race.
Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue

What all so wish, but want the power to do!
Oh say, what sums that gen'rous hand supply?
What mines, to swell that boundless charity?
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear,
This man possess'd-five hundred pounds a year.
Blush Grandeur, blush! proud Courts, withdraw
your blaze!

Ye little stars! hide your diminish'd rays.

And what! no monument, inscription, stone? His race, his form, his name almost unknown! Who builds a Church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his Name: Go search it there, where to be born and die > Of rich and poor makes all the history; Enough, that Virtue fill'd the space between ; Prov'd by the ends of being to have been.

NEAR

CHA P. V.

The Country Clergyman.

POPE.

EAR yonder copse, where once the garden
smil'd,

And still where many a garden flower grows wild;
There where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year:
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had chang'd, nor wish'd to change his
place:

Unpractis'd he to fawn or seek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;

Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More skill'd to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain.
The long remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending, swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay;
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were

won.

Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to

glow,

And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan
His pity gave, e'er charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And e'en his failings lean'd to Virtue's side;
But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies;
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed, where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The reverend champion stood. At his controul,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last falt'ring accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
The service past; around the pious man "
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;
E'en children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's
smile;

Book vij. His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest, Their welfare pleas'd him, and their care's distrest; To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were giv'n, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heav'n. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm; Tho' round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 'Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

CHA P. V I.

CONTENTMENT

The Wish.

CONTENTMENT, parent of delight,
So much a stranger to our sight,
Say, goddess! in what happy place,
Mortals behold thy blooming face;
Thy gracious auspices impart,
And for thy temple choose my heart.
They whom thou deignest to inspire
Thy science learn, to bound desire;
By happy alchymy of mind

GOLDSMITH.

They turn to pleasure all they find,
They both disdain in outward mein
The grave and solemn garb of spleen,
And meretricious arts of dress,
To feign a joy, and hide distress :
Unmoy'd when the rude tempest blows,
Without an opiate they repose;
And, cover'd by your shield, defy
The whizzing shafts, that round them fly:
Nor meddling with the gods' affairs,
Concern themselves with distant cares;
But place their bliss in mental rest,
And feast upon the good posses'd.
Forc'd by soft violence of pray'r
The blithsome goddess soothes my care;
I feel the deity inspire,

And thus she models my desire.
Two hundred pounds half-yearly paid,

Annuity securely made,

A farm some twenty miles from town,
Small, tight, salubrious, and my own;
Two maids that never saw the town,
A serving-man, not quite a clown;
A boy to help to tread the mow,
And drive while t'other holds the plough;
A chief of temper form'd to please,
Fit to converse and keep the keys;
And better to preserve the peace
Commission'd by the name of niece;
With understandings of a size
To think their master very wise.
May Heav'n it's all I wish for) send
One genial room to treat a friend,
Where decent cup-board, little plate,
Display benevolence, not state.
And my my humble dwelling stand
Upon some chosen spot of land;
A pond before, full to the brim,
Where cows may cool, and geese may swim;
Behind, a green like velvet neat,

Soft to the eye, and to the feet;
Where od'rous plants in evening fair
Breathe all around ambrosial air;
From Eurus, foe to kitchen ground,
Fenc'd by a slope with bushes crown'd;
Fit dwelling for the feather'd throng,
Who pay their quit-rents with a song;
With op'ning views of hill and dale,
Which sense and fancy too regale.

Where the half-cirque, which vision bounds,
Like Amphitheatre surrounds;

And woods impervious to the breeze,

Thick phalanx of embodied trees

From hills through plains, in dusk array

Extended far, repel the day.

Here stillness, height, and solemn shade
Invite, and contemplation aid:
Here nymphs from hollow oak relate
The dark degrees and will of fate,

And dreams beneath the spreading beech
Inspire, and docile fancy teach;
While soft as breezy breath of wind
Impulses rustle through the mind;
Here Dryads, scorning Phoebus' ray,
While Pan melodious pipes away,
In measur'd motions frisk about
Till old Silenus puts them out.
There see the clover, pea,

Vie in variety of green;

and bean,

Fresh pastures speckled o'er with sheep,
Brown fields their fallow sabbaths keep
Plump Ceres golden tresses wear

And poppy top-knots deck her hair,
And silver streams through meadows stray,
And Naïads on the margin play

And lesser nymphs on side of hills
From play-thing urns pour down the rills.
Thus shelter'd, free from care and strife,

May I enjoy a calm through life;
See faction, safe in low degree "
As men at land see storms at sea,
And laugh at miserable elves,
Not kind, so much as to themselves
Curs'd with such souls of base alloy
As can possess but not enjoy;
Debarr'd the pleasure to impart
By Av'rice, sphincter of the heart,
Who wealth hard earn'd by guilty cares
Bequeath untouch'd to thankless heirs.
May I, with look ungloom'd by guile,
And wearing virtue's liv'ry, smile,
Prone the distressed to relieve,
And little trespasses, forgive,

With income not in fortune's pow'r,
And skill to make a busy hour,
With trips to town, life to amuse "
To purchase books, and hear the news,
To see old friends, brush off the clown,
And quicken taste at coming down.
Unhurt by Sickness' blasting rage,