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Your country's peace, how oft, how dearly bought!
How 'barbarous rage subsided at your word,
And nations wonder'd while they dropp'd the
sword!

How, when you nodded, o'er the land and deep,
6 Peace stole her wing, and wrapp'd the world in
sleep;

8

10 I bite.

Till Earth's extremes your mediation own,
And Asia's tyrants tremble at your throne-
But verse, alas! your majesty disdains;
And I'm not us'd to panegyric strains:
The zeal of fools offends at any time,
But most of all, the zeal of fools in rhyme.
Besides a fate attends on all I write,
That when I aim at praise, they say
A vile" encomium doubly ridicules:
There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools.
If true, a 12 woful likeness; and if lies,
"Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise:"
Well may he blush, who gives it, or receives;
And when I flatter, let my dirty leaves
(Like journals, odes, and such forgotten things
As Eusden, Philips, Settle, writ of kings)
14 Clothe spice, line trunks, or, fluttering in a row,
Befringe the rails of Bedlam and Soho.

Ad libros et ad hæc Musarum dona vocares; 'Bœotum in crasso jurares aëre natum.

[At neque dedecorant tua de se judicia, atque Munera quæ multa dantis cum laude tulerunt, Dilecti tibi Virgilius Variusque poetæ ;]

Nec magis expressi 2 vultus per ahenea signa, Quam per vatis opus mores animique virorum Clarorum apparent. nec sermones ego mallem Repentes per humum, quam res componere gestas,

7

6

5

3

Terrarumque situs et flumina dicere, et arces
Montibus impositas, et barbara regna, tuisque
Auspiciis totum confecta duella per orbem,
Claustraque custodem pacis cohibentia Janum,
Et formidatum Parthis, te principe, Romam :
Si quantum cuperem, possem quoque. sed neque
parvum

'Carmen majestas recipit tua; nec meus audet
Rem tentare pudor, quam vires ferre recusent.
Sedulitas autem 10 stulte, quem diligit, urget;
Præcipue cum se numeris commendat et arte.
Discit enim citius, meminitque libentius illud
Quod quis deridet, quam quod probat et vene-

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BOOK II. EPISTLE II.

Hor.

Ludentis speciem dabit, et torquebitur. DEAR Col'nel, Cobham's and your country's friend! You love a verse, take such as I can send. 1 A Frenchman comes, presents you with his boy, Bows, and begins-" This lad, sir, is of Blois : Observe his shape how clean! his locks how curl'd! My only son; I'd have him see the world: His French is pure; his voice too-you shall hear,

Sir, he's your slave, for twenty pound a year.

Mere wax as yet, you fashion him with ease,
Your barber, cook, upholsterer, what you please:
A perfect genius at an opera song-

To say too much might do my honour wrong.
Take him with all his virtues, on my word;
His whole ambition was to serve a lord:
But, sir, to you, with what would I not part?
Though faith, I fear, 'twill break his mother's heart.
Once (and but once) I caught him in a lie,
And then, unwhipp'd, he had the grace to cry :
The fault he has I fairly shall reveal,
(Could you o'erlook but that) it is, to steal."

2 If, after this, you took the graceful lad,
Could you complain, my friend, he prov'd so bad?
Faith, in such case, if you should prosecute,
I think sir Godfrey should decide the suit;
Who sent the thief that stole the cash away,/
And punish'd him that put it in his way.

'Consider then, and judge me in this light; I told you when I went, I could not write; You said the same; and are you discontent With laws to which you gave your own assent? Nay worse, to ask for verse at such a time! D'ye think me good for nothing but to rhyme? 4 In Anna's wars, a soldier poor and old Had dearly earn'd a little purse of gold:

EPISTOLA II.

FLORE, bono claroque fidelis amíce Neroni,
'Si quis forte velit puerum tibi vendere natum.
Tibure vel Gabiis, et tecum sic agat: "Hic et
Candidus, et talos a vertice pulcher ad imos,
Fiet eritque tuus nummorum millibus octo;
Verna ministeriis ad nutus aptus heriles;
Litterulis Græcis imbutus, idoneus arti
Cuilibet argilla quidvis imitaberis uda:
Quin etiam canet indoctum, sed dulce bibenti.
Multa fidem promissa levant, ubi plenius æquo
Laudat venales, qui vult extrudere, merces.
Res urget me nulla: meo sum pauper in ære..
Nemo hoc mangonum faceret tibi: non temere a

me

Quivis ferret idem: semel hic cessavit, et (ut fit)
In scalis latuit metuens pendentis habenæ :
Des nummos, excepta nihil te si fuga lædit."
2 Ille ferat pretium, pœnæ securus, opinor.
Prudens emisti vitiosum: dicta tibi est lex."
Insequeris tamen hunc, et lite moraris iniqua.
3 Dixi me pigrum proficiscenti tibi, dixi
Talibus officiis prope mancum; ne mea sævus
Jurgares ad te quod epistola nulla veniret.
Quid tum profeci, mecum facientia jura
Si tamen attentas? quereris super hoc etiam, quod
Expectata tili non mittam carmina mendax.
4 Luculli miles collecta viatica multis
Erumnis, lassus dum noctu stertit, ad assem
Perdiderat post hoc vehemens lupus, et sibi et hosti

:

Tir'd with a tedious march, one luckless night,
He slept, poor dog! and lost it to a doit.
This put the man in such a desperate mind,
Between revenge and grief, and hunger join'd,
Against the foe, himself, and all mankind,
He leap'd the trenches, scal'd a castle-wall,
Tore down a standard, took the fort and all.

66

Prodigious well!" his great commander cry'd, Gave him much praise, and some reward beside. Next, pleas'd his excellence a town to batter, (Its name I know not, and 'tis no great matter); "Go on my friend," (he cry'd) see yonder walls! Advance and conquer! go where Glory calls! More honours, more rewards, attend the brave." Don't you remember what reply he gave? "D'ye think me, noble general, such a sot? Let him take castles who has ne'er a groat." 1 Bred up at home, full early I begun To read in Greek the wrath of Peleus' son. Besides, my father taught me from a lad, The better art, to know the good from bad: (And little sure imported to remove,

To hunt for truth in Maudlin's learned grove.)
But knottier points, we knew not half so well,
Depriv'd us soon of our paternal cell;
And certain laws, by sufferers thought unjust,
Deny'd all posts of profit or of trust:
Hopes after hopes of pious papists fail'd,
While mighty William's thundering arm prevail'd.
For right hereditary tax'd and fin'd,
He stuck to poverty with peace of mind;
And me, the Muses help'd to undergo it;
Convict a papist he, and I a poet.

But (thanks to Homer) since I live and thrive,
Indebted to no prince or peer alive,

Sure I should want the care of ten Monroes,

If I would scribble, rather than repose.

This subtle thief of life, this paltry Time, What will it leave me, if it snatch my rhyme? If every wheel of that unweary'd mill,

That turn'd ten thousand verses, now stands still?
3 But after all, what would you have me do?
When out of twenty I can please not two;
When this heroics only deigns to praise,
Sharp satire, that, and that Pindaric lays?
One likes the pheasant's wing, and one the leg;
The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.
Hard task to hit the palate of such guests,
When Oldfield loves what Dartineuf detests.

4 But grant I may relapse, for want of grace,
Again to rhyme: can London be the place?
Who there his Muse, or self, or soul attends,
In crouds, and courts, law, business, feasts, and
My counsel sends to execute a deed: [friends?

A poet begs me I will hear him read:
In Palace-yard at nine you'll find me there→→→
At ten, for certain, sir, in Bloomsbury-square--
Before the lords at twelve my cause comes on→→→→
There's a rehearsal, șir, exact at one---
"Oh but a wit can study in the streets,

And raise his mind above the mob he meets."
Not quite so well however as one ought;

A hackney coach may chance to spoil a thought;
And then a nodding beam, or pig of lead,
God knows, may hurt the very ablest head.
Have you not seen, at Guildhall's narrow pass,
Two aldermen dispute it with an ass?
And peers give way, exalted as they are,
Ev'n to their own s-r-v-nce in a car?

Go, lofty poet! and in such a croud,
Sing thy sonorous verse-but not aloud.
Alas! to grottoes and to groves we run,
To ease and silence, every Muse's son:
Blackmore himself, for any grand effort,

2 Years following years steal something every day, Would drink and doze at Tooting or Earl's-Court.

At last they steal us from ourselves away; In one our frolics, one amusements end, In one a mistress drops, in one a friend:

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Ibit,

Iratus pariter, jejunis dentibus acer,
Præsidium regale loco dejecit, ut aiunt,
Summe munito, et multarum divite rerum.
Clarus ob id factum, donis ornatur honestis,
Accipit et bis dena super sestertia nummûm.
Forte sub hoc tempus castellum evertere prætor
Nescio quod cupiens, hortari cœpit eundem
Verbis, quæ timido quoque possent addere mentem:
I, bone, quo virtus tua te vocat: i pede fausto,
Grandia laturus meritorum præmia: quid stas?
Post hæc ille catus, quantumvis rusticus,
Ibit eo, quo vis, qui zonam perdidit," inquit.
1 Romæ nutriri mihi contigit, atque doceri,
Iratus Graiis quantum nocuisset Achilles.
Adjecere bonæ paulo plus artis Athenæ :
Scilicet ut possem curvo dignoscere rectum,
Atque inter sylvas Academi querere verum.
Dura sed emovere loco me tempora grato;
Civilisque rudem belli tulit æstus in arma,
Cæsaris Augusti non responsura lacertis.
Unde simul primum me demisere Philippi,
Decisis humilem pennis, inopemque paterni
Et laris, et fundi, paupertas impulit audax
Ut versus facerem: sed, quod non desit hentem,
Quæ poterunt unquam satis expurgare cicuta,
Ni melius dormire putem, quam scribere versus ?
Singula de nobis anni prædantur euntes;
Eripuere jocos, venerem, convivia, ludum;

How shall I rhyme in this eternal roar? [fore? How match the bards whom none e'er match'd beThe man, who, stretch'd in Isis' calm retreat, To books and study gives seven years complete,

[alter:

Tendunt extorquere poemata. quid faciam vis?
3 Denique non omnes eadem mirantur amantque.
Carmine tu gaudes: hic delectatur iambis;
Ille Bioneis sermonibus, et sale nigro.
Tres mihi convivæ prope dissentire videntur,
Poscentes vario multum diversa palato.
Quid dem? quid non dem ? renuis quod tu, jubet
Quod petis, id sane est invisum acidumque duobus.
+ Præter cætera me Romæ ne poemata censes
Scribere posse, inter tot curas totque labores?
Hic sponsum vocat, hic auditum scripta, relictis
Omnibus officiis: cubat hic in colle Quirini,
Hic extremo in Aventino; visendus uterque.
Intervaila vides humane commoda.

"Verum

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See! strow'd with learned dust, his nightcap on,
He walks, an object now beneath the Sun!
The boys flock round him, and the people stare:
So stiff, so mute! some statue you would swear,
Stepp'd from its pedestal to take the air!

And here, while town, and court, and city roars,
With mobs, and duns, and soldiers, at their doors;
Shall I, in London, act this idle part?
Composing songs, for fools to get by heart?

The Temple late two brother sergeants saw,
Who deem'd each other oracles of law;
With equal talents, these congenial souls,
One lull'd th' Exchequer, and one stunn'd the Rolls;
Each had a gravity would make you split,
And shook his head at Murray, as a wit.
'Twas, "Sir, your law"-and "Sir, your eloquence,"
"Yours, Cowper's manner"-" and yours, Talbot's
2 Thus we dispose of all poetic merit, [sense."
Yours Milton's genius, and mine Homer's spirit.
Call Tibbald Shakespeare, and he'll swear the Nine,
Dear Cibber! never match'd one ode of thine.
Lord! how we strut through Merlin's Cave, to see
No poets there, but Stephen, you, and ine.
Walk with respect behind, while we at ease
Weave laurel crowns, and take what names we
My dear Tibullus!" If that will not do, [please.
"Let me be Horace, and be Ovid you;
Or, I'm content, allow me Dryden's strains,
And you shall rise up Otway for your pains."
Much do I suffer, much, to keep in peace
This jealous, waspish, wrong head, rhyming race;
And much must flatter, if the whim should bite
To court applause by printing what I write:
But let the fit pass o'er, I'm wise enough
To stop my ears to their confounded stuff.

3 In vain, bad rhymers all mankind reject, They treat themselves with most profound respect;

Plerumque, et risu populum quatit; hic ego rerum
Fluctibus in mediis, et tempestatibus urbis,
Verba lyræ motura sonum connectere digner?

'Frater erat Romæ consulti rhetor; ut alter
Alterius sermone meros audiret honores:
Gracchus ut hic illi foret, huic ut Mucius ille.
Qui minus argutos vexat furor iste poetas?
* Carmina compono, hic elegos; mirabile visu,
Calatumque novem Musis opus. aspice primum,
Quanto cum fastu, quanto molimine circun-
spectemus vacuam Romanis vatibus ædem.
Mox etiam (si forte vacas) sequere, et procul audi,
Quid ferat, et quare sibi nectat uterque coronam.
Cædimur, et totidem plagis consumimus hostem,
Lento Samnites ad lumina prima duello.
Discedo Alcaus puncto illius; ille meo quis?
Quis, nisi Callimachus? si plus adposcere visus :
Fit Mimnermus, et optivo cognomine crescit.
Multa fero, ut placem genus irritabile vatuin,
Cum scribo, et supplex populi suffragia capto:
Idem, finitis studiis, et mente recepta,
Obturem patulas impune legentibus aures.

3 Ridentur mala qui componunt carmina: verum
Gaudet scribentes, et se venerantur, et ultro,
Si taceas, laudant; quidquid scripsere, beati.
At qui legitimum cupiet fecisse poema,

Cum tabulis animum censoris sumet honesti :
Audebit quæcunque parum splendoris habebunt,
Et sine pondere erunt, et honore indigna ferentur,
Verba movere loco; quamvis invita recedant,
Et versentur adhuc intra penetralia Vesta:

'Tis to small purpose that you hold your tongue,
Each prais'd within, is happy all day long:
But how severely with themselves proceed
The men, who write such verse as we can read?
Their own strict judges, not a word they spare,
That wants or force, or light, or weight, or care,
Howe'er unwillingly it quits its place,

Nay though at court (perhaps) it may find grace;
Such they'll degrade; and sometimes, in its stead,
4 In downright charity revive the dead;
Mark where a bold, expressive phrase appears,
Bright through the rubbish of some hundred years;
Command old words that long have slept to wake,
Words, that wise Bacon, or brave Rawleigh spake;
Or bid the new be English, ages hence,
(For Use will father what's begot by Sense)
Pour the full tide of eloquence along,
Serenely pure, and yet divinely strong,
Rich with the treasures of each foreign tongue;
Prune the luxuriant, the uncouth retine,
But show no mercy to an empty line:
Then polish all, with so much life and ease,
You think 'tis Nature, and a knack to please:
"But ease in writing flows from art, not chance;
As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance."
"If such the plague and pains to write by rule,
Better (say I) be pleas'd, and play the fool;
Call, if you will, bad rhyming a disease,
It gives men happiness, or leaves them ease.
There liv'd in primo Georgii (they record)
A worthy member, no small fool, a lord;
Who, though the house was up, delighted sate;
Heard, noted, answer'd, as in full debate:
In all but this, a man of sober life,
Fond of his friend, and civil to his wife;
Not quite a madman, though a pasty fell;
And much too wise to walk into a well.
Him, the damu'd doctors and his friends immur'd,
They bled, they cupp'd, they purg'd; in short,
they cur'd:
Whereat the gentleman began to stare
My friends!" he cry'd, “ p-x take you for your

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[care!

4 Obscurata diu populo bonus eruct, atque
Proferet in lucem speciosa vocabula rerum,
Quæ priscis memorata Catonibus atque Cethegis,
Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas;
Adsciscet nova, quæ genitor produxerit usus:
Vehemens et liquidus, puroque simillimus amni,
Fundet opes, Latiumque beabit divite lingua:
Luxuriantia compescet: nimis aspera sano
Levabit cultu, virtute carentia tollet:
Laudentis speciem dabit, torquebitur, ut qui
Nunc Satyrum, nunc agrestem Cyclopa movetur,
5 Prætulerim scriptor delirus inersque videri,
Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant,
Quam sapere, et ringi. Fuit haud ignobilis Argia
Qui se credebat miros audire tragados,
In vacuo lætus sessor plausorque theatro:
Cætera qui vitæ servaret munia recto
More; bonus sane vicinus, amabilis hospes,
Comis in uxorem? posset qui ignoscere servis,
Et signo læso non insanire lagenæ :

Posset qui rupem, et puteum vitare patentem,
Hic ubi cognatorum opibus curisque refectus,
Expulit ileboro morbum bilemque meraco,
Et redit ad sese: Pol me occidistis, amici,
Non servastis, ait; cui sic extorta voluptas,
Et demptus per vim mentis gratissimus error,

That from a patriot of distinguish'd note,
Have bled and purg'd me to a simple vote.”

Well, on the whole, plain prose must be my fate:
Wisdom (curse on it) will come soon or late.
There is a time when poets will grow dull:
I'll e'en leave verses to the boys at school:
To rules of poetry no more contin'd,
I'll learn to smooth and harmonize my mind,
Teach every thought within its bounds to roll,
And keep the equal measure of the soul.

2 Soon as I enter at my country door, My mind resumes the thread it dropp'd before; Thoughts which at Hyde park corner I forgot, Meet and rejoin me, in the pensive grot. There all alone, and compliments apart, I ask these sober questions of my heart. [crave, 'If, when the more you drink, the more you You tell the doctor; when the more you have, The more you want, why not with equal ease Confess as well your folly, as disease? The heart resolves this matter in a trice, "Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."

When golden angels cease to cure the evil,
You give all royal witchcraft to the Devil:
When servile chaplains cry, that birth and place
Indue a peer with honour, truth, and grace;
Look in that breast, most dirty dean! be fair,
Say, can you find out one such lodger there?
Yet still, not heeding what your heart can teach,
You go to church to hear these flatterers preach.

Indeed, could wealth bestow or wit or merit,
A grain of courage, or a spark of spirit,
The wisest man might blush, I must agree,
If D*** lov'd sixpence, more than he.

"If there be truth in law, and use can give
A property, that's yours on which you live.
Delightful Abs-court, if its fields afford
Their fruits to you, confesses you its lord:

All Worldly's hens, nay, partridge, sold to town,
His venison too, a guinea makes your own:
He bought at thousands, what with better wit
You purchase as you want, and bit by bit;
Now, or long since, what difference will be found?
You pay a penny, and he paid a pound.

'Nimirum sapere est abjectis utile nugis, Et tempestivum pueris concedere ludum; ? Ac non verba sequi fidibus modulanda Latinis, Sed veræ numerosque modosque ediscere vitæ. Quocirca mecum loquor hæc, tacitusque recordor : 3 Si tibi nulla sitim finiret copia lymphæ, Narrares medicis: quod quanto plura parasti, Tanto plura cupis, nulline faterier audes?

* Si vulnus tibi monstrata radice vel herba Non fieret levius, fugeres radice vel herba Proficiente nihil curarier: audieras, cui Rem Di donarint, ille decedere pravam Stultitiam; et, cum sis nihilo sapientior, ex quo Plenior es, tamen uteris monitoribus isdem ?

At si divitiæ prudentem reddere possent, Si cupidum timidumque minus te: nempe ruberes, Viveret in terris, te si quis avarior uno.

[est,

Si proprium est, quod quis libra mercatus et ære Quædam (si credis consultis) mancipat usus: Qui te pascit ager, tuus est; et villicus Orbi, Cum segetes occat tibi mox frumenta daturus, Te dominum sentit.

' das nummos; accipis uvam, Pullos, ova, cadum, temeti: nempe modo isto Paulatim mercaris agrum, fortasse trecentis,

1 Heathcote himself, and such large-acred men,
Lords of fat E'sham, or of Lincoln-fen,
Buy every stick of wood that lends them heat;
Buy every pullet they afford to eat.

Yet these are wights, who fondly call their own
Half that the Devil o'erlooks from Lincoln-town.
The laws of God, as well as of the land,
Abhor a perpetuity should stand:

Estates have wings, and hang in Fortune's power 2 Loose on the point of every wavering hour, Ready, by force, or of your own accord,

By sale, at least by death, to change their lord.
Man? and for ever? wretch what wouldst thou
Heir urges heir, like wave impelling wave. [have?
All vast possessions, (just the same the case
Whether you call them villa, park or chase)
Alas, my Bathurst! what will they avail ?
Join Cotswood's hills to Saperton's fair dale,
Let rising granaries and temples here,
There mingled farms and pyramids appear,
Link towns to towns with avenues of oak,
Enclose whole downs in walls, 'tis all a joke!
Inexorable Death shall level all,

And trees, and stones, and farms, and farmer fall.
3 Gold, silver, ivory, vases sculptur'd high,
Paint, marble, gems, and robes of Persian dye,
There are who have not-and thank Heaven there

are,

Who if they have not, think not worth their care.
4 Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find
Two of a face, as soon as of a mind.

Why, of two brothers, rich and restless one
Ploughs, burns, manures, and toils from sun to sun;
The other slights, for women, sports, and wines,
All Townshend's turnips, and all Grosvenor's mines:
Why one like Bu- with pay and scorn content,
Bows and votes on, in court and parliament;
One, driven by strong benevolence of soul,
Shall fly like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole:
Is known alone to that Directing Power,
Who forms the genius in the natal hour;
That God of Nature, who, within us still,
Inclines our action, not constrains our will
Various of temper, as of face or frame,
Each individual; his great end the same.

Aut etiam supra, nummorum millibus emtum.
Quid refert, vivas numerato nuper, an olim?
1 Emptor Aricini quondam, Veientis et arvi,
Emtum cœnat olus, quamvis aliter putat; emtis
Sub noctem gelidam lignis calefactat ahenum.
Sed vocat usque suum, qua populus adsita certis
Limitibus vicina refigit jurgia: tanquam [ræ,

2 Sit proprium cuiquam, puncto quod mobilis hoNunc prece, nunc pretio, nunc vi, nunc sorte suprema,

Permutet dominos, et cedat in altera jura.

Sic, quia perpetuus nulli datur usus, et hæres Hæredem alterius, velut unda supervenit undam: Quid vici prosunt, aut horrea? quidve Calabris Saltibus adjecti Lucani; si metit Orcus Grandia cum parvis. non exorabilis auro?

› Gemmas, marmor, ebur, Tyrrhena sigilla, taArgentum, vestes Gætulo murice tinctas, [bellas, Sunt qui non habeant; est qui non curat habere. 4 Cur alter fratrum cessare, et ludere, et ungi Præferat Herodis palinetis pinguibus; alter Dives et importunus, ad umbram lucis ab ortu Silvestrem flammis et ferro mitiget agrum: Scit Genius, natale comes qui temperat astrum :

! Yes, sir, how small socver be my heap, A part I will enjoy, as well as keep.

My heir may sigh, and think it want of grace
A man so poor would live without a place :
But sure no statute in his favour says,
How free, or frugal, I shall pass iny days:
I who at some times spend, at others spare,
Divided between carelessness and care.
"Tis one thing madly to disperse my store;
Another, not to heed to treasure more:
Glad, like a boy, to snatch the first good day,
And pleas'd, if sordid want be far away.

2 What is't to me (a passenger God wot)
Whether my vessel be first-rate or not?
The ship itself may make a better figure;
But I that sail, am neither less nor bigger:
I neither strut with every favouring breath,
Nor strive with all the tempest in my teeth.
In power, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, plac'd
Behind the foremost, and before the last.

"But why all this of avarice? I have none."
I wish you joy, sir, of a tyrant gone!
But does no other lord it at this hour,
As wild and mad? the avarice of power?
Does neither rage inflame, nor fear appall?
Not the black fear of death that saddens all?
With terrours round, can Reason hold her throne,
Despise the known nor tremble at th' unknown?
Survey both worlds, intrepid and entire,

In spite 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?
Has life no sourness, drawn so near its end;
Canst thou endure a foe, forgive a friend?
Has age 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?

Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank your

fill:

Naturæ Deus humanæ, mortalis in unum.-
Quodque caput, vultu mutabilis, albus, et ater.
1Utar, et ex modico, quantum res poscet, acervo
Tollam nec metuam, quid de me judicet hæres,
Quod non plura datis invenerit. et tamen idem
Seire volam, quantum simplex hilarisque nepoti
Discrepet, et quantum discordet parcus avaro.
Distat enim, spargas tua prodigus, an neque sum-
Invitus facias, nec plura parare labores; [tum.
Ac potius, puer ut festis Quinquatribus olim,
Exiguo gratoque fruaris tempore raptim.
2Pauperies immunda domûs procul absit: ego, utrum
Nave ferar magna an parva, ferar unus et idem.
Non agimur tumidis velis Aquilone secundo:
Non tamen adversis ætatem ducimus Austris.
Viribus, ingenio, specie, virtute, loco, re,
Extremi primorum, extremis usque priores.

Non es avarus: abi. quid? cætera jam simul
Cum vitio fugere? caret tibi pectus inani [isto
Ambitione? caret mortis formidine et ira?
Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas,
Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Thessala rides?
Natales grate numeras? ignoscis amicis?
Lenior et melior fis accedente senecta?
Quid te extrema levat spinis de pluribus una?
Vivere si recte nescis, decede peritis.
Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti:

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[how,

It brought (no doubt) th' excise and army in:
Catch'd like the plague, or love, the Lord knows
But that the cure is starving, all allow.
Yet like the papist's, is the poet's state,
Poor and disarm'd, and hardly worth your hate!
Here a lean bard, whose wit could never give
Himself a dinner, makes an actor live:
The thief condemn'd, in law already dead,
So prompts, and saves a rogue who cannot read.
Thus as the pipes of some carv'd organ move,
The gilded puppets dance and mount above.
Th' inspiring bellows lie and pant below.
Heav'd by the breath th' inspiring bellows blow:

One sings the fair: but songs no longer move; No rat is rhym'd to death, nor maid to love:

Tempus abire tibi est: ne potum largius æquo Rideat, et pulset lasciva decentius ætas.

SATIRE II.

[rest.

SIR; though (I thank God for it) I do hate
Perfectly all this town: yet there's one state
In all ill things, so excellently best,
That hate towards them, breeds pity towards the
Though poetry, indeed, be such a sin,
As I think, that brings dearth and Spaniards in:
Though like the pestilence and old-fashion'd love,
Ridlingly it catch men, and doth remove
Never, till it be starv'd out; yet their state
Is poor, disarm'd, like papists, not worth hate.
One (like a wretch, which at barre judg'd as dead,
Yet prompts him which stands next, and cannot read
And saves his life) gives ideôt acters means
(Starving himself) to live by 's labour'd scenes.
As in some organs puppits dance above,
And bellows pant below, which them do move.
One would move love by rhymes; but witchcraft's
charms

Bring not now their old fears, nor their old harms;
Rams and slings now are silly battery,
Pistelets are the best artillery.

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