Between each A&t the trembling falvers ring, leave, 165 Yet hence the Poor are cloath'd, the Hungry fed; Health to himself, and to his infants bread, The Labourer bears: What his hard Heart denies, Another Age fhall fee the golden Ear Imbrown the Slope, and nod on the Parterre, Who then shall grace, or who improve the Soil? His Father's Acres who enjoys in peace, 170 175 180 185 190 You You too proceed! make falling Arts your care, 195 200 MORAL MORAL ESSAY S. EPISTLE V. TO MR. ADDISON, Occafioned by his Dialogues on MEDALS. THIS was originally written in the year 1715, when Mr. Addison intended to publish his book of Medals; it was fome time before he was Secretary of State; but not published till Mr. Tickell's Edition of his works; at which time the verses on Mr. Craggs, which conclude the poem, were added, viz. in 1,720. As the third Epiftle treated of the extremes of Avarice and Profufion; and the fourth took up one particular branch of the latter, namely, the Vanity of Expence in people of wealth and quality, and was therefore a corollary to the third; fo this treats of one circumftance of that Vanity, as it appears in the common collectors of old coins; and is, therefore, a corollary to the fourth. EE the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own fad fepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead; Imperial wonders rais'd on Nations spoil'd, Where mix'd with Slaves the groaning Martyr toil'd: Huge Theatres, that now unpeopled Woods, Now drain'd a diftant country of her Floods: 5 Fanes, Fanes, which admiring Gods with pride survey; Perhaps, by its own ruins fav'd from flame, Ambition figh'd: fhe found it vain to trust 10 15 20 25 Huge moles, whose shadow stretch'd from shore to shore, 30 Gods, Emperors, Heroes, Sages, Beauties, lie. With fharpen'd fight pale Antiquaries pore, 35 Th' infcription value, but the ruft adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears, L ΤΟ To gain Pefcennius one employs his Schemes, 40 Poor Vadius, long with learned fpleen devour'd, Can tafte no pleasure fince his Shield was scour'd: Theirs is the Vanity, the Learning thine: 45% Touch'd by thy hand, again Rome's glories fhine: And all her faded garlands bloom anew. 50 The verfe and fculpture bore an equal part, And Art reflected images to Art. Oh, when shall Britain, confcious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame ? In living medals fee her wars enroll'd, 55 And vanquifh'd realms fupply recording gold? Here, rifing bold, the Patriot's honeft face; Then fhall thy Craggs (and let me call him mine) With afpect open fhall erect his head, And round the orb in lafting notes be read, 66 Statefman, yet friend to Truth! of foul fincere, "In action faithful, and in honour clear; 60 65 "Who |