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BOOK I. EPISTLE I.

TO LORD BOLINGBROKE.

T. JOHN, whofe love indulg'd my labours paft, Matures my present, and fhall bound my laft! Why b will you break the fabbath of my days? Now fick alike of Envy and of Praise. Public too long, ah let me hide my Age!

See modeft Cibber now has left the Stage:

Our Generals now, retir`d to their Eftates,
Hang their Old Trophies o'er the Garden gates,
In Life's cool Evening fatiate of Applaufe,

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Nor fond of bleeding, ev'a in BRUNSWICK's caufe. f Avce there is, that whipers in my ear,

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('Tis Rean's voice, which fometimes one can hear) Friend Pope! be prudent, let your & Mufe takze breath, "And never galiop iegafus to death;

"Let

EPISTOLA I.

RIMA dicte mihi, fumma dicende camena,

PRIM

Spectatum fatis, et donatum jam rude, quaeris, Maecenas, iterum antiquo me includere ludo.

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Non eadem eft aetas, non mens. Veianius, armis

Herculis ad poftem fixis, latet abditus agro; Ne populum extrema toties exoret arena.

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f Eft mihi purgatam crebro qui perfonet aurem; Solve fenefcentem mature fanus equum, ne

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"Left ftiff, and stately, void of fire or force, "You limp, like Blackmore, on a Lord Mayor's horfe." Farewell then Verfe, and Love, and every Toy, The Rhymes and Rattles of the Man or Boy; What i right, what true, what fit we justly call, Let this be all my care for this is All:

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To lay this harvest up, and hoard with haste,
What every day will want, and moft, the last.

But ask not, to what Doctors I apply?

Sworn to no Mafter, of no Sect am I:

As drives them ftorm, at any door I knock,

And house with Montagne now, or now with Locke:
Sometimes a n Patriot, active in debate,

Mix with the World, and battle for the State,
Free as young Lyttelton, her caufe pursue,
Still true to Virtue, and as warm as true:
Sometimes with Aristippus, or St. Paul,
Indulge my candour, and grow all to all;

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Peccet ad extremum ridendus, et ilia ducat.
Nunc itaque et h verfus, et caetera ludicra pono:
Quid i verum atque decens, curo et rogo, et omnis in
hoc fum:

*Condo, et compono, quae mox depromere poffim.
Ac ne forte roges, 'quo me duce, quo Lare tuter:
Nullius addictus jurare in verba magiftri,
Quo me cunque rapit tempeftas, deferor hofpes.
Nunc agilis fio, et merfor "civilibus undis,
Virtutis verae cuftos, ° rigidufque fatelles:
VOL. XLVI.

Back to my P native Moderation flide,

And win my way by yielding to the tide.

4 Long, as to him who works for debt, the day, 35 Long as the Night to her whofe Love 's away, Long as the Year's dull circle seems to run, When the brisk Minor pants for twenty-one; So flow th' unprofitable moments roll,

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That lock up all the Functions of my foul;
That keep me from myfelf; and fill delay
Life's inftant bufinefs to a future day:
That task, which as we follow, or despise,
The eldest is a fool, the youngest wife:
Which done, the pooreft can no wants endure;
And which not done, the richest must be poor.

Late as it is, I put myself to fchool,

And feel fome " comfort, not to be a fool.

* Weak though I am of limb, and fhort of fight, Far from a Lynx, and not a Giant quite:

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I'll

Nunc in Ariftippi P furtim praecepta relabor,
Et mihi res, non me rebus, fubjungere conor.

4 Ut nox longa, quibus mentitur amica; diefque
Lenta videtur opus' debentibus: ut piger annus
Pupillis, quos dura premit cuftodia matrum:
Sic mihi tarda fluunt ingrataque tempora, quae fpem
Confiliumque morantur agendi gnaviter 3 id, quod
Aeque pauperibus prodeft, locupletibus aeque,
Aeqüe neglectum pueris fenibufque nocebit.

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* Reftat, ut his ego me ipfe regam "folerque elementis: w Non poffis oculo quantum contendere Lynceus;

I'll do what Mead and Chefelden advise,

To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes.
Not to x go back, is fomewhat to advance,
And men must walk at least before they dance.

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Say, does thy blood rebel, thy bofom move
With wretched Avarice, or as wretched Love?
Know, there are Worlds, and Spells, which can control
z Between the Fits this Fever of the foul:
Know, there are Rhymes, which a fresh and fresh apply'd
Will cure the arrant'ft Puppy of his Pride.

Be furious, envious, flothful, mad, or drunk,
Slave to a Wife, or Vaffal to a Punk,

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A Switz, a High-dutch, or a Low-dutch & Bear;
All that we afk is but a patient Ear.

e 'Tis the firft Virtue, Vices to abhor; And the first Wisdom, to be Fool no more.

Non tamen idcirco contemnas lippus inungi:
Nec, quia defperes invicti membra Glyconis,
Nodofa corpus nolis prohibere chiragra.
Eft quadam prodire tenus, fi non datur ultra.

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y Fervet avaritia, miferoque cupidine pectus? Sunt verba et voces, quibus hunc lenire dolorem Poffis, et magnam morbi deponere partem. Laudis amore tumes? funt certa piacula, quae te pure lecto poterunt recreare libello.

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b Invidus, iracundus, iners, vinofus, amator; Nemo adeo ferus eft, ut non mitefcere poffit, Si modo culturae patientem commodet aurem. e Virtus eft, vitium fugere; et fapientia prima,

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But

But to the world no f bugbear is so great,
As want of figure, and a small Estate.
To either India fee the Merchant fly,
Scar'd at the fpe&re of pale Poverty!

See him, with pains of body, pangs of foul,
Burn through the Tropic, freeze beneath the Pole!
Wilt thou do nothing for a nobler end,
Nothing, to make Philofophy thy friend?
To ftop thy foolish views, thy long defires,
And eafe thy heart of all that it admires?

"As Gold to Silver, Virtue is to Gold."

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Here Wisdom calls: "Seek Virtue first, be bold!

There, London's voice, k" Get Money, Money ftill!

"And then let Virtue follow, if she will."

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This, this the faving doctrine, preach'd to all,

From low St. James's up to high St. Paul!

From

Stultitia caruiffe. vides, quae maxima credis
Effe mala, exiguum cenfum, turpemque repulfam,
Quanto devites animi capitifque labore.

Impiger extremos curris mercator ad Indos,
Per & mare pauperiem fugiens, per faxa, per ignes:
Ne cures h ea, quae ftulte miraris et optas,
Difcere, et audire, et meliori credere non vis?
Quis circum pagos et circum compita pugnax
Magna coronari contemnat Olympia, cui fpes,
Cui fit conditio dulcis fine pulvere palmae?
"i Vilius argentum eft auro, virtutibus aurum.

O cives, cives! quaerenda pecunia primum eft; * Virtus poft nummos:" haec 1 Janus fummus ab ime

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