Yet still one gen'ral cry the skies affails, And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales; Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care, Th' infidious rival and the gaping heir.
Once + more, Democritus, arife on earth, With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth, See motley life in modern trappings dreft, And feed with varied fools th' eternal jest: Thou who couldst laugh where want enchain'd caprice,
Toil crush'd conceit, and man was of a piece; Where wealth unlov'd without a mourner died; And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate, Or feen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; Where change of fav 'rites made no change of laws, And fenates heard before they judg'd a caufe; How wouldst thou shake at Britain's modish tribe, Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe? Attentive, truth and nature to defery, And pierce each scene with philofophic eye, To thee were folemn toys or empty show, The robes of pleasure and the veils of woe: All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain, Whose joys are caufeless, or whose griefs are vain. Such was the scorn that fill'd the fage's mind, Renew'd at every glance on human kind; How just that scorn ere yet thy voice declare, Search every state, and canvass ev'ry pray'r.
‡ Unnumber'd fuppliants crowd Preferment's
Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great; Delufive Fortune hears th' inceffant call, They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. On ev'ry stage the foes of peace attend, Hate dogs their flight, and infult mocks their end. Love ends with hope, the finking statefman's door Pours in the morning worshipper no more; For growing names the weekly fcribbler lies, To growing wealth the dedicator flies;
From ev'ry room defcends the painted face, That hung the bright palladium of the place, And fmok'd in kitchens, or in auctions fold, To better features yields the frame of gold; For now no more we trace in ev'ry line Heroic worth, benevolence divine: The form distorted justities the fall, And detestation rids th' indignant wall. But will not Britain hear the laft appeal,
Sign her foes doom, or guard her fav rites zeal? Thro' Freedom's fons no more reinonftrance rings, Degrading nobles and controuling kings; Our fupple tribes repress their patriot throats, And afk no questions but the price of votes; With weekly libels and feptennial ale, Their with is full to riot and to rail.
In full-blown dignity, fee Wolfey stand, Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand: To him the church, the realm, their pow'rs con- Thro' him the rays of regal bounty shine; [sign,
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Turn'd by his nod the stream of honour flows, His fmile alone security bestows: Still to new heights his restless wishes tow'r; Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r; Till conquest unrefifted ceas'd to please, And rights fubmitted left him none to feize. At length his fovereign frowns-the train of state Mark the keen glance, and watch the fign to hate. Where-e'er he turns he meets a ftranger's eye, His fuppliants scorn him, and his followers fly; Now drops at once the pride of awful state, The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, The regal palace, the luxurious board, The liv'ried army, and the menial lord. With age, with cares, with maladies oppreft, He seeks the refuge of monaftic rest. Grief aids difcafe, remember'd folly stings, And his last fighs reproach the faith of kings.
Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine,
Shall Wolfey's wealth with Wolfcy'send be thine? Or liv'ft thou now, with fafer pride content, The wifeft juftice on the banks of Trent? For why did Wolfey, near the steeps of fate, On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight? Why but to fink, beneath misfortune's blow, With louder ruin to the gulphs below ?
What § gave great Villiers to th' afsaffin's knife, And fix'd difeate on Harley's clofing life? What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd'
By kings protected, and to kings ally'd? What but their wish indulg'd in courts to shine, And pow'r too great to keep, or to refign?
When || first the college rolls receive his name, The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame; Refistless burns the fever of renown,
Caught from the strong contagion of the gown: O'er Bodley's dome his future labours fpread, And Bacon's manfion trembles o'er his head. Are these thy views? proceed, illustrious youth, And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth! Yet should thy foul indulge the gen'rous heat, Till captive Science yields her last retreat; Should Reafon guide thee with her brightest ray, And pour on misty Doubt refistless day : Should no falle kindness lure to loose delight, Nor praife relax, nor difficulty fright; Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain, And Sloth effufe her opiate fumes in vain; Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart, Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart; Should no Disease thy torpid veins invade, Nor Melancholy's phantoms haunt thy fhade; Yet hope not life from grief or danger frec, Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee : Deign on the paffing world to turn thine eyes, And paufe a while from learning, to be wife; There mark what ills the scholar's e affail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
Ver. 56-107. § Ver. 108-113. || Ver. 114-122. friat Bacon, built on an arch over the bridge, will fall, when a
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See nations slowly wife, and meanly just, To buried merit raise the tardy buit. If dreams yet flatter, once again attend, Hear Lydiat's life", and Galileo's end.
Nor deem, when Learning her last prize bestows, The glitt'ring eminence exempt from foes; See, when the vulgar 'scapes, defpis'd or aw'd, Rebellion's vengeful talons seize on Laud. From meaner minds, tho' finaller fines content, The plunder'd palace or sequester'd rent; Mark'd out by dang'rous parts he meets the shock And fatal Learning leads him to the block : Around his tomb let Art and Genius weep, But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and fleep.
The + festal blazes, the triumphal show, The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe, The fenate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale, With force refiftless o'er the brave prevail. Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Afia whirl'd, For fuch the steady Romans shook the world; For such in distant lands the Britons shine, And ftain with blood the Danube or the Rhine; This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm Till fame supplies the universal charm. Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal game, Where wasted nations raise a fingle name,
And mortgag'd states their grandfires wreaths reFrom age to age in everlasting debt; [gret, Wreaths which at last the dear-bought right conTo ruft on medals, or on ftones decay.
On what foundation stands the warrior's pride,
How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; A frame of adamant, a foul of fire,
No dangers fright him, and no labours tire; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Urconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; No joys to him pacific fceptres yields, War founds the trump, he rushes to the field; Behold furrounding kings their pow'r combine, And one capitulate, and one refign; [vain; Peace courts his hand, but fpreads spreads her charms in "Think nothing gain'd, he cries, til nought re-
"On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly, "And all be mine beneath the polar sky." The march begins in military ftate, And nations on his eye fufpended wait; Stern Famine guards the folitery coaft, And Winter barricades the realms of Froft; He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;- Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day : The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, And thews his miferies in diftant lands;
[Condemn'd a needy fupplicant to wait, While ladies interpose, and flaves debate. But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no fubverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? Or hoftile millions prefs him to the ground? His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, A petty fortrefs, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
All & times their scenes of pompous woes afford, From Perfia's tyrant, to Bavaria's lord. In gay hoftility, and barb'rous pride. With half mankind embattled at his fide, Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey, And starves exhausted regions in his way; Attendant Flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er, Till counted myriads footh his pride no more; Fresh praife is try'd till madness fires his mind, The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind; New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still be. stow'd,
Till rude resistance lops the spreading god; The daring Greeks deride the martial show, And heap their vallies with the gaudy foe; Th' infulted fea with humbler thoughts he gains, A fingle skiff to speed his flight remains; Th' incumber'd oar scarce leaves the dreaded coast Through purple billows and a floating hoft.
The bold Bavarian, in a lucklefs hour, Tries the dread fummits of Cæfarean pow'r, With unexpected legions burfts away, And fees defenceless realms receive his sway; Short fway! fair Austria spreads her mournful charms,
The queen, the beauty, fets the world in arms; From hill to hill the beacon's roufing blaze Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praife; The fierce Croatian, and the wild Huffar, With all the fons of ravage crowd the war; The baffled prince in honour's flatt'ring bloom hatty greatness finds the fatal doo doom, His foes derifion, and his fubjects blame, And steals to death from anguish and from shame, Enlarge || my life with multitude of days, In health, in fickness, thus the fuppliant prays; Hides from himself his ftate, and thuns to know, That life protracted is protracted woe. Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And shuts up all the paflages of joy : In vain their gifts the bounteous feafons pour, The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r- With liitless eyes the dotard views the store, He views, and wonders that they please no more;
* A very learned divine and mathematician, fellow of New College Oxford, and rector of Okerton near Banbury. He wrote, among many others, a Latin Treatise De Natura Cæli, &c. in which he attacked the fentiments of Scaliger and Arstotle, not bearing to hear it urged that fome things are true in philosophy and false in divinity. He made above fix handied fermons on the harmony of the Evangelists. Being unfuccefsful in publishing his works, he lay in the prifon of Bocardo at Oxford, and the king's-bench, till bishop Uther, Dr. Laud, Sir William Bofwel, and Dr. Pink, releated him by paying his debts. He petitioned King Charles I. to be sent into Ethiopia, &c. to procre MSS. Having spoken in favour of monarchy and bithops, he was plun dered by the parliament forces, and twice carried away prifoner from his rectory; and afterwards had not
fhirt to shift him in three months, unless he borrowed it, and he died very poor in 1546.
Now pall the tasteless meats, and joyless wines, And Luxury with fighs her slave refigns. Approach, ye minstrels, try the foothing strain, Diffufe the tuneful lenitives of pain :
Nofounds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, Though danting mountains witness'd Orpheus Nar lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, [near; Nor fweeter music of a virtuous friend : But everlafiting dictates crowd his tongue, Perverfely grave, or positively wrong.
The ftill returning tale, and ling'ring jeft, Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; The watchful guests still hint the last offence, The daughter's petulance, the fon's expence, Imp ove his heady rage with treach'rous skill, And mould his paffions till they make his will. Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, Lay fiege to life, and press the dire blockade; But unextinguifh'd Av'rice ftill remains, And dreaded loffes aggravate his pains; He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; Or views his coffers with fufpicious eyes, Valocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.
Bat grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime Blefs with an age exempt from scorn or crime; An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, And guides in modeft innocence away; Whole peaceful day Benevolence endears, Whole night congratulating Confcience cheers; The gen'ral fav'vite as the gen'ral friend:
Such age there is, and who shall with its end? Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings, To prefs the weary minutes flagging wings; New forrow rifes as the day returns,
A fifter fickens, or a daughter mourns. Now kindred Merit fills the fable bier, Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear. Year chases year, decay purfues decay, Sal drops some joy from with'ring life away; New forms arice, and diff 'rent views engage, Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, Till pitying Nature figus the last release, And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.
But few there are whom hours like these await, Was fet unclouded in the gulphs of Fate.
From Lydia's monarch should the fearch defcend,
Br Sclon caution'd to regard his end, Life's last scene what prodigies surprise, Fears of the brave, and follies of the wife ! From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage And Swift expires a The teeming mother, anxious for her race, driver and a row, Bezs for each birth the fortune of a face: Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty fpring: And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king. Ye nymphs of rofy lips and radiant eyes, Whom Pleasure keeps too busy to be wife, Whom joys with foft varieties invite, By day the frolic, and the dance by night,
Who frown with vanity, who fmile with art, And ask the lateft fashion of the heart,
What care, what rules your heedless charms shall
Each nymph your rival, and each youth your slave Against your fame with fondness hate combines, The rival batters, and the lover mines. With diftant voice neglected Virtue calls, Less heard and lefs, the faint remonstrance falls; Tir'd with contempt, she quits the flipp'ry rein, And Pride and Prudence take her feat in vain. In crowd at once, where none the pass defend, The harmless freedom, and the private friend. The guardians yield, by force fuperior ply'd; To Int'reft, Prudence; and to Flatt'ry, Pride. Here Beauty falls betray'd, despis'd, dutreft, And hiffing Infamy proclaims the reft.
Where + then shall Hope and Fear their objects
Muft dull Sufpenfe corrupt the stagnant mind? Muft helpless man, in ignorance fedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? Muft no diflike alarm, no wishes rife, No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? Enquirer, ceafe, petitions yet remain Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem religion vain. Still raife for good the fupplicating voice, But leave to Heav'n the measure and the choice. Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes difcern afar The fecret ambush of a fpecious pray'r, Implore his aid, in his decifions reft, Secure whate'er he gives, he gives the best. Yet when the fenfe of facred prefence fires, And ftrong devotion to the skics afpires, Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient paffions, and a will refign'd; For love, which scarce collective man can fill; For patience, sov'reign o'er tranfimuted ill; For faith, that, panting for a happier feat, Counts death kind Nature's fignal of retrcat: These goods for man the laws of Heav'n ordain, These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain;
With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness the does not find.
§ 101. Elegy on the Death of Lady Coventry. Written in 1760. MASON
THE midnight clock has toll'd-and, hark!
Of death beats flow! heard ye the note profounde It paufes now; and now, with rfing kaell, Flings to the holiow gale its fullen found. Yes-Coventry is dead. Attend the ftrain, Daughters of Albion! ye that, light as air, So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train,
With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair : For the was fair beyond your brightest bloom (This envy owns, fince now her bloom is fled); Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, Float in light vifion round the poet's head.
Whene'er with foft ferenity she smil'd,
Or caught the orient blush of quick furprise, How sweetly mutable, how brightly wild, The liquid luftre darted from her eyes! Each look, each motion, wak'd a new-born grace, That o'er her form its tranfient glory cast: Some lovelier wonder foon ufurp'd the place, Chas'd by a charm still lovelier than the laft.
That bell again! It tells us what the is; On what she was, no more the strain prolong: Luxuriant fancy, paufe! an hour like this Demands the tribute of a ferious fong.
Maria claims it from that fable bier,
Where cold and wan the flumb'rer refts her head;
In still fmall whispers to reflection's car
She breathes the folemn dictates of the dead. O catch the awful notes, and lift them loud! Proclaim the theme by lage, by fool, rever'd; Hear it, ye young, ye vain, ye great, ye proud! 'Tis Nature speaks, and Nature will be heard.
Yes; ye shall hear, and tremble as ye hear,
While, high with health, your hearts exulting E'on in the midst of pleasure's mad career, [leap; The mental monitor shall wake and weep!
For fay, than Coventry's propitious star, What brighter planet on your births arose? Or gave of fortune's gifts an ampler share, In life to lavish, or by death to lose? Early to lofe! While, borne on busy wing, Ye fip the nectar of each varying bloom; Nor fear, while basking in the beams of spring, The wint'ry storm that sweeps you to the tomb;
Think of her fate! revere the heavenly hand That led her hence, tho' foon, by steps so flow; Long at her couch Death took his patient stand, And menac'd oft, and oft withheld the blow:
To give reflection time, with lenient art, Each fond delufion from her foul to steal; Teach her from folly peaceably to part,
And wean her from a world the lov'd fo well. Say, are you fure his mercy shall extend
To you so long a span? Alas, ye figh! [friend, Make then, while yet ye may, your God your And learn with equal ease to fleep or die! Nor think the Muse, whose fober voice ye hear, Contracts with bigot frown her fullen brow; Cafts round religion's orb the mifts of fear, [glow. Or fhades with horrors what with fmiles should
No-fhe would warn you with seraphic fire, Heirs as ye are of heaven's eternal day; Would bid you boldly to that heaven afpire,
Not fink and flumber in your cells of clay. Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field, In yon ethereal founts of blifs to lave: Force then, fecure in faith's protecting shield, The fting from death, the vict'ry from the grave! Is this the bigot's rant? Away, ye vain! [steep: Yout hopes, your fears, in doubt, in dulnefs
Go footh your fouls in fickness, grief, or pain, With the fad folace of eternal fleep! Yet will I praise you, triflers as you are, More than those preachers of your fav'rite creed, Who proudly swell the brazen throat of war, Who form the phalanx, bid the battle bleed, Nor wish for more; who conquer but to die. Hear, Folly, hear, and triumph in the tale! Like you they reason, not like you enjoy The breeze of bliss that fills your filken fail: On pleasure's glitt'ring stream ye gaily steer
Your little course to cold oblivion's shore; They dare the storm, and thro' th' inclement year Stem the rough furge, and brave the torrent's
Is it for glory? That just Fate denies; Long must the warrior moulder in his shroud, Ere from her trump the heaven-breath'd accents That lift the hero from the fightingcrowd! [rife. Is it his grafp of empire to extend?
To curb the fury of infulting foes? Ambition, ceafe! the idle conteft end: 'Tis but a kingdom thou canft win or lofe. And why must murder'd myriads lose their all (If life be all), why desolation low'r With famish'd frown on this affrighted ball, That thou mayst flame the meteor of an hour? Go, wiser ye, that flutter life away,
Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high! Weave the light dance, with festive freedom gay, And live your moment, fince the next ye die! Yet know, vain sceptics! know, th' Almighty Mind,
Who breath'd on man a portion of his fire, Bade his free foul, by earth nor time confin'd, To heav'n, to immortality afpire. Nor shall the pile of hope his mercy rear'd By vain philofophy be e'er destroy'd: Eternity, by all or with'd or fear'd,
Shall be by all or fuffer'd or enjoy'd!
NOTE, In a book of French verfes, intitled, Oeuvres du Philofophe de Sans Souci, and lately reprinted at Berlin by authority, under the title of Poésies Diverses, may be found an Epiftle to Marshal Keith, written profeffedly against the immortality of the foul. By way of fpecimen of
the whole, take the following lines: De l'avenir, cher Keith, jugeons par le paffé: Comme avant que je fuffe il n'avoit point penfe; De même, après ma mort, quandtoutes mes parties Par la corruption feront anéanties, Par un même deftin il ne penfera plus! Non, rien n'est plus certain, soyons en convaincu.
It is to this Epiftle that the latter part of the Elegy alludes.
§102. Elegy to a young Nobleman leaving the University. MASON. FRE yet, ingenuous youth, thy steps retire [vale From Cain's fimooth margie, and the peaceful
Where Science call'd thee to her studious quire, And met thee musing in her cloisters pale; O let thy friend (and may he boast the name !) Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay: A lay like this thy early virtues claim, And this let voluntary friendship pay.
Yet know, the time arrives, the dang'rous time, When all those virtues, op'ning now fo fair, Tranfplanted to the world's tempestuous clime, Muit learn each passion's boist'rous breath to bear;
There, if ambition, peftilent and pale, Or luxury should taint their vernal glow; If cold felf-intereft, with her chilling gale, Should blast th'unfolding bloffoms ere they blow; If mimic hues, by art or fashion spread, Their genuine fimple colouring should fupply; O may with them these laureate honours fade, And with them (if it can) my friendship die! Then do not blame, if, tho thyself infpire, Cautious I ftrike the panegyric string; The Mufe full oft pursues a meteor fire, And, vainly vent'rous, foars on waxen wing: Too actively awake at friendship's voice, The poet's bosom pours the fervent strain, Till fad reflection blames the hatty choice, And oft invokes oblivion's aid in vain. Call we the shade of Pope from that blest bow'r, Where thron'd he fits with many a tuneful fage; Aik, if he ne'er bemoans that hapless hour When St. John's name illumin'd glory's page. Ask, if the wretch, who dar'd his mem'ry stain; Afk, if his country's, his religion's foe, Deferv'd the meed that Marlbro' fail'd to gain; The deathless meed he only could beftow: The bard will tell thee, the misguided praise Clouds the celestial funshine of his breast; Een now, repentant of his erring lays,
He heaves a figh amid the realms of reft. If Pope thro' friendship fail'd, indignant view, Yet pity, Dryden-hark, whene er he fings, How adulation drops her courtly dew On titled rhyıners and inglorious kings!
See, from the depths of his exhauftless mine, His glitt'ring stores the tuneful spendthrift
Where fear or int'rest bids, behold they shine; Now grace a Cromwell's, now a Charles's brows. Born with too gen'rous or too mean a heart, Dryden! in vain to thee those stores were lent; Thy fweetest numbers but a trifling art; Thy strongest diction idly eloquent. The fimpleft lyre, if truth directs its lays, Warbles a melody ne'er heard from thine : Not to difguft with false or venal praife, Was Parnell's modest fame, and may be mine. Co then, my friend, nor let thy candid breaft Condemn me, if I check the plaufive string; Go to the wayward world; complete the reft; Be what the pureft muse would with to fing.
Be still thyself: that open path of truth, Which led thee here, let manhood firm pursue; Retain the sweet fimplicity of youth;
And all thy virtue dictates, dare to do. Still fcorn, with confcious pride, the mask of art On vice's front let fearful caution low'r; And teach the diffident, difcrecter part
Of knaves that plot, and fools that fawn for pow'r.
So, round thy brow when age's honours fpread, When death's cold hand unstrings thy Mason's
The Choice of Itercules: from the Greek of Prodicus. Bp. LowTH.
NOW had the fon of Jove, mature, attain'd The joyful prime; when youth, clate and gay, Steps into life, and follows unrestrain'd Where paffion leads, or prudence points the way. In the pure mind, at those ambiguous years, Or vice, rank weed, fuft strikes her pois nous Or haply virtue's op'ning bud appears [root;
By juft degrees, fair bloom of fairest fruit ! For, if on youth's untainted thought impreft, The gen'rous purpose still shall warm the manly
on a day, reflecting on his age For highest deeds now ripe, Alcides fought Retirement, nurse of contemplation fage, Step following step, and thought fucceeding
Mufing, with steady pace the youth pursued His walk, and loft in meditation stray'd Far in a lonely vale, with folitude
Converfing; while intent his mind survey'd The dubious path of life: before him lay, [way. Here virtue's rough ascent, there pleasure's flow'ry Much did the view divide his wav'ring mind:
Now glow'd his breaft with gen'rous thirst of Now love of ease to softer thoughts inclin'd [fame; His yielding foul, and quench'd the rifing flame: When, lo! far off two female forms he spies: Direct to him their steps they seem to bear; Both large and tall, exceeding human fize; Both, far exceeding human beauty, fair. Graceful, yet each with diff rent grace they move; This striking facred awe; that, fofter winning love. The first in native dignity furpafs'd;
Artless and unadorn'd she pleas'd the more; Health o'er her looks a genuine luftre caft;
A vest more white than new-fallen fnow the August she trod, yet modest was her air; [wore; Screne her eye, yet darting heavenly fire. Still the drew near; and nearer still more fair, More mild, appear'd: yet such as might inspire Pleasure corrected with an awful fear; Majestically sweet, and amiably fevere.
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