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Why one like Bu--- with pay and fcorn content,
e Yes, Sir, how small foever be my heap,
I, who at fome times spend, at others fpare, 290
'Tis one thing madly to disperse my store;
both the naturalism and the fate of Horace, which are covertly conveyed in these words,
Ścit Genius, natale comes qui temperat aftrum,
NATURAE DEUS HUMANAE.
VER. 288. But fure no ftatute] Alluding to the ftatutes made in England and Ireland, to regulate the Succeffion of Papifts, etc.
Exiguo gratoque fruaris tempore raptim.
Pauperies immunda procul procul abfit: ego,utrum
* Non es avarus: abi. quid? caetera jam fimul isto Cum vitio fugere? caret tibi pectus inani Ambitione? caret mortis formidine et ira?
Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, fagas,
Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Theffala rides?
VER. 312. Survey both worlds,] It is obfervable with what fobriety he has corrected the licentioufnefs of his Original, which made the expectation of another world a part of that
Glad, like a Boy, to fnatch the firft good day,
What is't to me (a paffenger God wot)
8" But why all this of Av'rice? I have none." I wish you joy, Sir, of a Tyrant gone; 395 But does no other lord it at this hour, As wild and mad? the Avarice of pow'r? Does neither Rage inflame, nor Fear appall? Not the black fear of death, that faddens all? With terrors round, can Reason hold her throne, Despise the known, nor tremble at th' unknown? Survey both worlds, intrepid and entire, In fpite of witches, devils, dreams, and fire? Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind, And count each birth-day with a grateful mind?
fuperftition, he would explode; whereas his Imitator is only for removing the falfe terrors from the world of fpirits, fuch as the diablerie of witchcraft and purgatory.
Natales grate numeras? ignofcis amicis?
Lenior et melior fis accedente fenecta?
Quid te exemta levat fpinis de pluribus una?
b Vivere fi recte nefcis, decede peritis.
Lufifti fatis, edifti fatis, atque bibisti:
Tempus abire tibi eft: ne potum largius aequo
Rideat, et pulfet lafciva decentius aetas.
Has life no fournefs, drawn fo near its end; 316 Can'ft thou endure a foe, forgive a friend? Has but melted the rough parts away, As winter-fruits grow mild ere they decay? Or will you think, my friend, your business done, When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one? 1 Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank your fill:
Walk fober off; before a sprightlier age 324 Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage: Leave fuch to trifle with more grace and ease, Whom Folly pleases, and whose Follies please.