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And throbs to reach it. Let the lame sit still.
Sithence no fairy lights, no quick’ning ray,
Why sits Content upon a cottage sill
'Tis labour makes the peasant's sav'ry fare, And works out his repose : for Ease must ask The leave of Diligence to be enjoy'd.
Oh! listen not to that enchantress Ease
the Russ and Persian claim
What tho' with lure fallacious she pretend
Bestir , and answer your creation's end. Think we that man, with vig'rous pow'r endow'd And room to stretch , was destin'd to sit still? Sluggards are Nature's rebels, slight her laws, Nor live up to the terms on which they hold Their vital lease. Laborious terms and hard : But such the tenure of our earthly state! Riches and fame are Industry's reward ; The nimble runner courses Fortune down. And then he banquets, for she feeds the bold. Think what you owe your country,
yourself. If splendor charm not, yet avoid the scorn, That treads on lowly stations. Think of some Assiduous booby mounting o'er your head, And thence with saucy grandeur looking down: Think of (Reflection's stab!) the pitying friend With shouider shrugg’d and sorry. Think that Time Has golden minutes, if discreetly seiz'd: And if some sad example, indolent, To warn and scare be wanting
think of me.
CH A P. X X. Elegy to a young Nobleman leaving the
University. Ene yet, ingenuous Youth, thy steps retire From Cam's smooth margin , and the peaceful
vale, Where Science callid thee to her studious quire,
And met thee musing in her cloisters pale: 0! let thy friend (and may he boast the name)
Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay! A lay like this thy early Virtues claim,
And this let voluntary friendship pay.
When all those Virtues, opening now so fair, Transplanted to the world's tempestuous clime, Must learn each Passion's boist'rous breath to
bear. There if Ambition , pestilent and pale ,
Or luxury should taint their vernal glow; If cold Self-interest, with her chilling gale,
Should blast th'unfolding blossomsere they blow; If mimic hues, by Art, or Fashion spread,
Their genuine , simple colouring should supply; 0! with them may these laureate honours fade;
And with them (if it can) my friendship die. -And do not blame, if, tho’thyself inspire,
Cautious I strike the panegyric string; The Muse full oft
a meteor fire, And vainly vent'rous , soars on waxen wing, Too actively awake at Friendship's voice,
The poet's bosom pours the fervent strain,
And oft invokes Oblivion's aid in vain.
Condemn me, if I check the plausive string;
Be, what the purest Muse would wish to sing, Be styll Thyself: that open path of Truth,
Which led thee here, let Manhood firm parsue; Retain the sweet simplicity of Youth, And all thy virtue dictates , dare to do.
with conscious pride, the mask of Arti On Vice's front let fearful Caution lour, And teach the diffident, discreeter
part Of knaves that plot, and fools that fawn for power. So, round thy brow when age's honours spread, When death's cold hand unstrings thy Mason's
lyre, When the green turf lies lightly on his head,
Thy worth shall some superior bard inspire : He to the amplest bounds of Time's domain,
On Rapture's plume shall give thy Name to fly; For trust, with rev'rence trust this Sabine strain : a The Muse forbids the virtuous Man to die. »
CH A P. X X I.
On the Miseries of human Life. Ar little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along x How many feel, this very moment,
death And all the sad variety of pain: How many sink in the devouring flood, Or more devouring flame: how many bleed, By shameful variance betwixt Man and Man: How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms; Shut from the common air, and common use Of their own limbs : how
drink the cup
shrink into the sordid hut Of cheerless poverty:
shake With all the fiercer tortures of the mind, Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse ;
Whence, tumbling headlong from the height of life,
снА Р. X XII. Reflections on a future State. ?T1s done!--dread Winter spreads his latest
thoughts Lost between good and ill, that shar'd thy life? All now are vanish'd! Virtue sole survives,