Befides, high living, fir, muft wear you out
With furfeits, qualms, a fever, or the gout.
By some new pleasures are you still engross'd,
And when you fave an hour, you think it lost.
To sports, plays, races, from your books you run,
And like all company, except your own.

You hunt, drink, fleep, or (idler ftill) you rhyme;
Why?—but to banish thought, and murder time:
And yet that thought, which you discharge in vain,
Like a foul-loaded piece, 'recoils again.

P. Tom, fetch a cane, a whip, a club, a stone,--. S. For what?

P. A sword, a pistol, or a gun :

I'll shoot the dog.

S. Lord! who would be a wit?

He's in a mad, or in a rhyming fit.

P. Fly, fly, you rascal, for your spade and fork; For once I'll fet your lazy bones to work: Fly, or I'll fend you back, without a groat, To the bleak mountains where you firft were caught.

ODE TO JOHN PITT, Esq

Advising him to build a banquetting-house on a hill that overlooks the fea.

FROM this tall promontory's brow

look majestic down,

And fee extended wide below

Th' horizon all your own.

With growing piles the vales are crown'd,

Here hills peep over hills;
There the vast fky and sea profound
Th' increasing profpect fills.

O bid, my friend, a ftructure rise,
And this huge round command;
Then fhall this little point comprise
The ocean and the land.

Then

you, like Æolus, on high, From your aerial tower, Shall fee fecure the billows fly,

And hear the whirlwinds roar.

You, with a fmile, their rage despise,
Till fome fad wreck appears,
And calls, from your relenting eyes,
The fympathizing tears.

Thus may you view, with proud delight,
While winds the deep deform,
(Till human woes your grief excite)
All nature in a storm.

Majeftic, awful fcene! when, hurl'd

On furges, furges rife,

And all the heaving watery world
Tumultuous mounts the fkies.

The feas and thunder roar by turns,
By turns the peals expire;

The billows flash, and æther burns
With momentary fire.

But lo! the furious tempefts cease,

The mighty rage subsides;
Old ocean hufh'd, in folemn peace,
Has still'd the murmuring tides.

Spread wide abroad, the glassy plain,
In various colours gay,

Reflects the glorious fun again,
And doubly gilds the day.

Th' horizon glows from fide to fide,
And flames with glancing rays;
The floating, trembling, filver tide,
Is one continual blaze.

Your eyes

the profpect now command,

All uncontrol'd and free,

Fly like a thought from land to land,

And dart from fea to fea.

Thus, while above the clouds we fit,
And innocently gay,

Pass in amusements, wine, or wit,
The fultry hours away;

Sometimes, with pity, or difdain,

In thought a glance we throw

Down on the poor, the proud, the vain,

In yonder world below.

We fee, from this exalted feat,
(How fhrunk, reduc'd, confin'd!)
The little perfon of the great,

As little as his mind.

See

See there-amidst the crowds our view
Some scatter'd virtues strike;

But thofe fo throng'd, and these fo few,
The world looks all alike.

Yet, through this cloud of human kind,
The Talbots we furvey,

The Pitts, the Yorks, the Seckers find,
Who shine in open day.

ODE TO JOHN PITT, Esq.

On the fame fubject.

'ER curious models as you rove

O'

The vales with piles to crown, And great Palladio's plans improve With nobler of your own;

O bid a ftructure o'er the floods

From this high mountain rise,
Where we may fit enthron'd like gods,
And revel in the fkies.

Th' afcending breeze, at each repast,
Shall breathe an air divine,
Give a new brightness to the taste,
New fpirit to the wine.

Or these low pleasures we may quit

For banquets more refin'd,
The works of each immortal wit,

The luxury of the mind.

Plato,

Plato, or Boyle's, or Newton's page,

Our towering thoughts fhall raise,
Or Homer's fire, or Pindar's rage,
Or Virgil's lofty lays.

Or with amusive thoughts the Sea
Shall entertain the mind,

While we the rolling fcene furvey,
An emblem of mankind.

Where, like fworn foes, fucceffive all,
The furious furges run,
To urge their predeceffor's fall,
Though follow'd by their own.

Where, like our moderns fo profound,
Engag'd in dark difpute,

The fkuttles caft their ink around

To puzzle the dispute.

Where sharks, like fhrewd directors, thrive,
Like lawyers, rob at will;
Where flying-fish, like trimmers live ;

Like foldiers, fword-fifh kill.

Where on the lefs the greater feed,

The tyrants of an hour,

Till the huge royal whale fucceed,

And all at once devour.

Thus in the moral world we now

Too truly understand,

Each monster of the fea below

Is match'd by one at land..