BOOK I. EPISTLE I. TO LORD BOLINGBROKE. ST. T. JOHN, whofe love indulg'd my labours paft, Matures my prefent, and shall bound my last! Why b will break the Sabbath of my days? you Now fick alike of Envy and of Praife. Public too long, ah let me hide my Age! See modeft Cibber now has left the Stage: Our Generals now, d retir'd to their Estates, Hang their Old Trophies o'er the Garden gates, In Life's cool Evening fatiate of Applause, Nore fond of bleeding, ev'n in BRUNSWICK'S cause. f A voice there is, that whispers in my ear, 5 ('Tis Reason's voice, which fometimes one can hear) "Friend Pope! be prudent, let your s Mufe take "breath, "And never gallop Pegasus to death; EPISTOLA I. RIMA dicte mihi, fumma dicende camena, PR .: Let b Spectatum fatis, et donatum jam rude, quaeris, Maecenas, iterum antiquo me includere ludo. Non eadem eft aetas, non mens. c Veianius, armis d Herculis ad poftem fixis, latet abditus agro; Ne populum e extrema toties exoret arena. f Eft mihi purgatam crebro qui personet aurem ; Solveg fenefcentem mature fanus equum, ne 15 "Left ftiff, and stately, void of fire or force, But ask not, to what 1 Doctors I apply? And houfe with Montagne now, or now with Locke, 20 25 Mix with the World, and battle for the State, Still true to Virtue, and as warm as true: 30 Back Peccet ad extremum ridendus, et ilia ducat. Nunc itaque et h verfus, et caetera ludicra pono: hoc fum: k Condo, et compono, quae mox depromere poffim. 1 Ac ne forte roges, 1 quo me duce, quo Lare tuter : m Quo me cunque rapit tempeftas, deferor hofpes. Nunc agilis fio, et merfor n civilibus undis, Virtutis verae cuftos, o rigidusque satelles; VOL. II. Back to my p native Moderation slide, And win my way by yielding to the tide. q Long, as to him who works for debt, the day, r So flow th' unprofitable moments roll, That lock up all the Functions of my foul; 35 40 45 And feel fome a comfort, not to be a fool. 50 I'll Nunc in Ariftippi P furtim praecepta relabor t Reftat, ut his ego me ipfe regam " folerque elementis: Non poffis oculo quantum contendere Lynceus ; I'll do what Mead and Chefelden advise, To keep thefe limbs, and to preferve thefe eyes. 55 Say, does thy y 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 b furious, envious, flothful, mad, or drunk, A Switz, a High-dutch, or a Low-dutch & Bear; e 'Tis the firft Virtue, Vices to abhor: And the first Wisdom, to be Fool no more. Non tamen idcirco contemnas lippus inungi : y Fervet avaritia, miferoque cupidine pectus ? C b Invidus, iracundus, iners, vinofus, amator; Nemo d adeo ferus eft, ut non mitefcere poffit, Si modo culturae patientem commodet aurem. e Virtus eft, vitium fugere; et fapientia prima, 60 65 But But to the world no f bugbear is fo great, As want of figure, and a small Estate. To either India fee the Merchant fly, 70 See him, with pains of body, pangs of foul, Burn through the Tropic, freeze beneath the Pole! 75 h Here Wisdom calls: i" Seek Virtue first, be bold! "As Gold to Silver, Virtue is to Gold." There, London's voice, k "Get Money, Money ftill! "And then let Virtue follow, if the will." 80 This, this the faving doctrine, preach'd to all, From low St. James's up to high St. Paul! From Stultitia caruiffe. vides, quae f maxima credis Impiger extremos curris mercator ad Indos, |