While the young bloffoms here unfold,
There fhines the fruit like pendent gold.
Citrons their balmy fweets exhale,
And triumph in the diftant gale.
Now fountains, murm'ring to the fong,
Roll their tranflucent ftreams along;
Thro' all the aromatic groves
The faithful turtles coo their loves;
The lark afcending pours his notes,
And linnets fwell their rapt'rous throats.
Pleafure, imperial fair! how gay
Thy empire, and how wide thy fway!
Enchanting queen, how foft thy reign!
How man, fond man! implores thy chain !
Yet thine each meretricious art,
That weakens and corrupts the heart:
The childith toys, and wanton page,
Which fink and proftitute the fage!
The mafquerade, that juft offence
To virtue, and reproach to fenfe!
The midnight dance, the mantling bowl,
And all that diffipate the foul;
All that to ruin man combine,
Yes, fpecious harlot! all are thine.

Whence fprung th' accurfed luft of play,
Which beggars thoufands in a day?
Speak, forc'refs, fpeak (for thou canft tell),

Who call'd the treach'rous card from hell:
Now man profanes his reas'ning pow'rs,
Profanes fweet friendship's facred hours;
Abandon'd to inglorious ends,
And faithlefs to himself and friends;
A dupe to ev'ry artful knave,
To ev'ry abject with a flave:
But who against himself combines,
Abets his enemy's defigns.
When rapine meditates a blow,
He fhares the guilt who aids the foc.
Is man a thief who fteals my pelf-
How great his theft who robs himself!
Is man, who gulls his friend, a cheat-
How heinous, then, is felf-deceit !
Is murder justly deem'd a crime-
How black his guilt who murders time!
Should cuftom plead, as cuftom will,
Grand precedents to palliate ill;
Shall modes and forms avail with me,
When reafon difavows the plea?
Who games is felon of his wealth,
His time, his liberty, his health:
Virtue forfakes his fordid mind,
And Honour scorns to stay behind.

From man when these bright cherubs part,
Ah, what's the poor deferted heart!
A favage wild that fhocks the fight!
Or chaos, and impervious night!
Each gen'rous principle deftroy'd,
And demons crowd the frightful void !
Shall Siam's clephant fupply
The ban-ful defolating die!
Against the honeft fylvan's will,
You taught his iv'ry tusk to kill.
Heaven, fond its favours to dispense,
Gave him that weapon for defence:

That weapon for his guard defign'd, You render'd fatal to mankind.

He plann'd no death for thoughtless youth;
You gave the venom to his tooth.
Blush, tyrant, blush! for, oh! 'tis true,
That no fell ferpent bices like you.

The guests were order'd to depart;
Reluctance fat on every heart:
A porter fhew'd a diff'rent door,
Not the fair portal known before.
The gates, methought, were open'd wide
The crowds defcended in a tide :
But oh! ye heavens, what vaft furprise
Struck the advent'rers' frighted eyes!
A barren heath before us lay,
And gath'ring clouds obfcur'd the day;
The darknefs rofe in fimoky fpires;
The lightnings flath'd their livid fires;
Loud peals of thunder rent the air,
While vengeance chill'd our hearts with fear,
Five ruthlefs tyrants fway'd the plain,
And triumph'd o'er the mangled flain.
Here fat Diftafte, with fickly mien,
And more than half devour'd with spleen:
There stood Remorfe with thought oppreft,
And vipers feeding on his breaft:
Then Want, dejected, pale, and thin,
With bones juft ftarting thro' his fkin;
A ghaftly fiend !-and clofe behind,
Difeafe his aching head reclin'd;
His everlafting thirst confefs'd
The fires which rag'd within his breaft:
Death clos'd the train! the hideous form
Smil'd, unrelenting, in the ftorm;
When ftraight a doleful fhrick was heard;
I 'woke the vifion disappear'd.
Let not the unexperienc'd boy
Deny that pleasures will deftroy;
Or fay that dreams are vain and wild,
Like fairy tales to please a child.
Important hints the wife may reap
From fallies of the foul in fleep:
And fince there's meaning in my dream,
The moral merits your cfteem.

$113. Vifion III. Health. ATTEND my Vifions, thoughtless youths, Ere long you'll think them weighty truths; Prudent it were to think fo now,

Ere age has filver'd o'er your brow:
For he, who at his early years

Has fown in vice, fhall reap in tears,
If folly has poffefs'd his prime,
Difeafe fhall gather strength in time;
Poifon fhall rage in ev'ry vein;
Nor penitence dilute the ftain:
And when each hour fhall urge his fate,
Thought, like the doctor, comes too late.
The fubject of my fong is Health,
A good fuperior far to wealth.
Can the young mind diftruft its worth?
Confult the monarchs of the earth:
Imperial czars, and fultans, own

No gem fo bright that decks their throne;

Each

Each for this pearl his crown would quit, And turn a ruftic, or a cit.

Mark, tho' the bledling 's loft with ease, 'Tis not recover'd when you please. Bay not that gruels fhall avail; For falutary, gruels fail:

Say not, Apollo's fons fucceed;
Apollo's fon is Egypt's * reed.
How fruitless the phyfician's skill,
How vain the penitential pill,
The marble monuments proclaim;
The humbler turf confirms the fame!
Prevention is the better cure;
So fays the proverb, and 'tis fure.
Would you extend your narrow fpan,
And make the most of life you can;
Would you, when med'cines cannot fave,
Defcend with eafe into the grave-
Calmly retire, like evening light,
And cheerful bid the world good night?
Let Temp'rance conftantly prefide;
Our beft phyfician, friend, and guide!
Would you to wifdom make pretence,
Proud to be thought a man of fense ?
Let Temp'rance (always friend to fame)
With fteady hand direct your aim;
Or, like an archer in the dark,

Your random fhaft will mils the mark:
For they who flight her golden rules,
In wifdom's volume ftand for fools.

But morals, unadorn'd by art,
Are feldom known to reach the heart;
I'll therefore ftrive to raise my theme
With all the fcenery of a dream.

Soft were my flumbers, fiect my reft,
Such as the infant's on the breast;
When Fancy, ever on the wing,
And fruitful as the genial fping,
Prefented. in a blaze of light,
A new creation to my fight.

A rural landscape I defcried, Dreft in the robes of fummer pride; The herds adorn'd the floping hills, That glitter'd with their tinkling rills; Below, the fleecy mothers stray'd, And round their sportive lambkins play'd. Nigh to a murm'ring brook I w An humble cottage, thatch'd with straw; Behind, a garden, that fupplied All things for ufe, and none for pride: Beauty prevail'd thro' ev'ry part; But more of nature than of art.

Hail, thou fweet, calm, unenvied feat!' I faid, and blefs'd the fair retreat; Here would I pafs my remnant days, Unknown to cenfure or to praife; Forget the world, and be forgot, As Pope defcribes his veftal's lot.'

While thus I mus'd, a beauteous maid Stepp'd from a thicket's neighbouring shade; Not Hampton's gallery can boaft, Nor Hudion paint, fo fair a toaft:

She claim'd the cottage for her own:
To Health a cottage is a throne.

The annals fay (to prove her worth)
The Graces folemniz'd her birth.
Garlands of various flow 'rs they wrought:
The orchard's blushing pride they brought:
Hence in her face the lily fpeaks,

And hence the rofe which paints her checks;
The cherry gave her lips to glow;
Her eyes were debtors to the floe;
And, to complete the lovely fair,
'Tis faid the chefnut ftain'd her hair.
The virgin was averfe to courts,
But often feen in rural sports:
When in her rofy veft the morn
Walks o'er the dew-befpangled lawn,
The nymph is first to form the race,
Or wind the horn, and lead the chace.
Sudden I heard a fhouting traiu;
Glad acclamations fill'd the plain;
Unbounded joy improv'd the fcene,
For Health was loud proclaim'd a queen.

Two fmiling cherubs grac'd her throne
To modern courts, I fear, unknown):
One was the nymph that loves the light,
Fair Innocence, array'd in white;
With fifter Peace in clofe embrace,
And heaven all opening in her face.
The reign was long, the empire great,
And Virtue minifter of state.
In other kingdoms, ev'ry hour,
You hear of Vice preferr'd to power:
Vice was a perfect stranger here;
No knaves engrofs'd the royal ear;
No fools obtain'd this monarch's grace;
Virtue difpos'd of ev'ry place.

What fickly appetites are ours,
Still varying with the varying hours!
And tho' from good to bad we range,
No matter,' fays the fool, 'tis change.'
Her fubjects now exprefs'd apace
Diffatisfaction in their face;

Some view the ftate with Envy's cye;
Some were difpleas'd, they knew not why;
When Faction, ever bold and vain,

With rigour tax'd their monarch's reign.
Thus, fhould an angel from above,
Fraught with benevolence and love,
Defcend to carth, and here impart
Important truths to mend the heart,
Would not th' inftructive gueft difpenfe
With paflion, appetite, and tente,
We fhould his heavenly lore defpife,
And fend him to his former fkies.
A dang rous hoftile pow'r arofe

The queen was first to take the field,
Arm'd with her helmet and her thield;
Temper'd with fuch fuperior art,
That both were proof to ev'ry dart.
Two warlike chiefs approach'd the green,
And wondrous fav'rites with the queen;
Both were of Amazonian race;
Both high in merit and in place.
Here Refolution march'd, whofe feul
No fear could shake, no pow'r controul;
The heroine wore a Roman veft;
A lion's heart inform'd her breast.
There Prudence thone, whofe bofom wrought
With all the various plans of Thought;
'Twas hers to bid the troops engage,
And teach the battle where to rage.

And now the Syren's armies prefs;
Their van was headed by Excels;
The mighty wings that form'd the fide,
Commanded by that giant Pride;
While Sicknefs, and her fifters, Pain
And Poverty, the centre gain:
Repentance, with a brow fevere,
And Death were ftation'd in the rear.

Health rang'd her troops with matchlefs art,
And acted the defenfive part:
Her army, pofted on a hill,
Plainly befpoke fuperior skill.

Hence were difcover'd, through the plain,
The motions of the hoftile train:
While prudence, to prevent furprise,
Oft fallied with her trufty fpies;
Explor'd cach ambuscade below,
And reconnoitred well the foe.
Afar when Luxury defcried
Inferior force by art fupplied,
The Syren fpake- Let Fraud prevail,
Since all my num'rous hofts must fail;
Henceforth hoftilities fhall cease;

I'll fend to Health and offer peace.'

Straight the difpatch'd, with pow'rs complete,
Pleafure, her minifter, to treat.
This wicked ftrumpet topp'd her part,
And fow'd fedition in the heart!
Thro' ev'ry troop the poison ran;
All were infected to a man.
The wary generals were won
By Pleafure's wiles, and both undone.
Jove held the troops in high difgrace,
And bade difeafes blaft the race;

Look'd on the queen with melting eyes,
And fnatch'd his darling to the skies:
Who ftill regards thofe wifer few,
That dare her dictates to purfue.
For where her stricter law prevails,
Tho' paffion prompts, or vice affails,
Long fhall they cloudlefs fkies behold,
And their calm fun-fet beam with gold.

§ 114. Vifion IV. Content. MAN is deceiv'd by outward fhow

'Tis a plain homefpun truth, I know The fraud prevails at ev'ry age, So lays the fchool-boy and the fage:

Yet ftill we hug the dear deceit,
And ftill exclaim against the cheat.
But whence this inconfiftent part?
Say, moralifts, who know the heart:
If you ll this labyrinth pursue,
I'll go before, and find the clue.

I dream'd ('twas on a birth-day night)
A fumptuous palace rofe to fight:
The builder had, thro' ev'ry part,
Obferv'd the chafteft rules of art;
Raphael and Titian had difplay'd
All the full force of light and fhade:
Around the liveried fervants wait;
An aged porter kept the gate.

As I was traverfing the hall,
Where Bruffels looms adorn'd the wall
(Whofe tap'ftry fhews, without my aid,
A nun is no fuch useless maid),
A graceful perfon came in view
(His form, it feems, is known to few);
His drefs was unadorn'd with lace,
But charms! a thoufand in his face.

This, Sir, your property? I cried;
'Mafter and manfion coincide:
Where all, indeed, is truly great,

And proves that blifs may dwell with state.
Pray, Sir, indulge a ftranger's claim,
And grant the favour of your name.'

Content!' the lovely form replied;
'But think not here that I refide:
'Here lives a courtier, bafe and fly;
'An open, honest ruftic, I.

(

6

Our taste and manners difagree;

His levec boafts no charms for me:
For titles, and the fmiles of kings,
To me are cheap, unheeded things.
('Tis virtue can alone impart

The patent of a ducal heart:

Unless this herald fpeaks him great, What fhall avail the glare of ftate?) Thofe fecret charms are my delight, Which fhine remote from public fightPaffions fubdued, defires at reft: And hence his chaplain fhares my breast. There was a time (his grace can tell) 'I knew the duke exceeding well; Knew ev'y fecret of his heart; In truth, we never were apart : But when the court became his end, 'He turn'd his back upon his friend. 'One day I call'd upon his grace, Juft as the duke had got a place: I thought (but thought anifs, 'tis clear) I fhould be welcome to the peer; Yes, welcome to a man in pow'r; And fo I was-for half an hour: But he grew weary of his gueft, And foon difcarded me his breaft; Upbraided me with want of merit, But most for poverty of spirit.

You relish not the great man's lot! Come, haften to my humbler cot. Think me not partial to the great, I'm a fworn foe to pride and state;

• No

4

'No monarch fhares my kind embrace;
There 's fearce a monarch knows my face;
'Content fhuns courts, and oft'ner dwells
With modeft worth in rural cells;
'There's no complaint, tho' brown the bread,
'Or the rude turf fuftain the head;

Tho' hard the couch, and coarse the meat,
Still the brown loaf and fleep are sweet.
'Far from the city I refide,
And a thatch'd cottage all my pride.
True to my heart, I feldom roam,
Because I find my joys' at home:
For foreign vifits then begin
When the man feels a void within.

'But tho' from towns and crowds I fly,

No humorift, nor cynic, I.

Amidft fequefter'd fhades I prize

The friendships of the good and wife.
Bid Virtue and her fons attend,
Virtue will tell thee, I'm her friend;
Tell thee I'm faithful, conftant, kind,
And meek, and lowly, and refign'd;
Will fay, there's no diftinction known
Betwixt her household and my own.'

AUTHOR.

If these the friendships you purfue,
Your friends, I fear, are very few.
So little company, you say,

Yet fond of home from day to day !
How do you thun Detraction's rod?
I doubt your neighbours think you odd!

CONTENT.

I commune with myself at night, And ask my heart if all be right: If Right' replies my faithful breast, I fmile, and clofe my eyes to reft.

AUTHOR.

You feem regardless of the town: Pray, Sir, how ftand you with the gown?

CONTENT.

The clergy fay they love me well; Whether they do, they beft can tell: They paint me modeft, friendly, wife, And always praife me to the fkies: But if conviction 's at the heart, Why not a correspondent part? For thall the learned tongue prevail, If actions preach a diff'rent tale? Who 'll feek my door, and grace my walls, When neither dean nor prelate calls? With those my friendships moft obtain, Who prize their duty more than gain; Soft flow the hours whene'er we meet, And confcious virtue is our treat; Our harmless breafts no envy know, And hence we fear no fecret foe; Our walks Ambition ne'er attends, And hence we ask no pow'rful friends; We wish the best to church and state, But leave the steerage to the great ; Careless who rifes or who falls, And never dream of vacant ftalls:

Much lefs, by pride or int'reft drawn,
Sigh for the mitre and the lawn.
Obferve the fecrets of my art,
I'll fundamental truths impart;
If you'll my kind advice purfue,
I'll quit my hut, and dwell with you.
The pallions are a num'rous crowd,
Imperious, pofitive, and loud:
Curb thefe licentious fons of strife;
Hence chiefly rife the ftorms of life:
If they grow mutinous, and rave,
They are thy mafters, thon their flave.
Regard the world with cautious eye,
Nor raife your expectation high.
See that the balanc'd fcales be fuch,
You neither fear nor hope too much:
For difappointment 's not the thing;
'Tis pride and paffion point the fting.
Life is a fea, where ftorms muft rife;
'Tis Folly talks of cloudless skies;
He who contracts his swelling fail,
Eludes the fury of the gale.

Be ftill, nor anxious thoughts employ;
Diftruft embitters prefent joy:

On God for all events depend;

You cannot want when God 's your friend.
Weigh well your part, and do your best;
Leave to your Maker all the rest.

The Hand, which form'd thee in the womb,
Guides from the cradle to the tomb.
Can the fond mother flight her boy ?
Can the forget her prattling joy?
Say, then, fhall Sov'reign Love defert
The humble and the honeft heart?
Heaven may not grant thee all thy mind;
Yet fay not thou that Heaven 's unkind.
God is alike both good and wife
In what he grants and what denies :
Perhaps, what Goodnefs gives to-day,
To-morrow Goodnefs takes away.

You fay, that troubles intervene ;
That forrows darken half the scene.
True-and this confequence you fee.
The world was ne'er defign'd for thee:
You 're like a paffenger below,
That flays perhaps a night or fo;
But ftill his native country lies
Beyond the bound'ries of the skies.

Of Heaven afk virtue, wisdom, health;
But never let thy pray'r be wealth.
If food be thine (tho' little gold),
And raiment to repel the cold;
Such as may Nature's wants fuffice,
Not what from pride and folly rife;
If foft the motions of thy foul,

And a calm confcience crown the whole;
Add but a friend to all this ftore,
You can't in reafon with for more:
And if kind Heaven this comfort brings,
'Tis more than Heaven bestows on kings.
He fpake the airy fpectre flies,
And ftraight the fweet illufion dies.
The Vifion, at the early dawn,
Confign'd me to the thoughtful morn;

To all the cares of waking clay,
And inconfiftent dreams of day.

$115. Vision V. Happiness.
YE ductile youths, whofe rifing fun
Hath many circles till to run;
Who wifely with the pilot's chart,
To fteer thro' life th' unfteady heart;
And, all the thoughtful voyage past,
To gain a happy port at laft:
Attend a Seer's inftructive fong;
For moral truths to dreams belong.

I faw this wondrous Vifion foon,
Long ere my fun had reach'd its noon;
Juft when the rifing beard began
To grace my chin, and call me man.
One night, when balmy flumbers shed
Their peaceful poppies o'er my head,
My fancy led me to explore

A thoufand fcenes unknown before.
I faw a plain extended wide,
And crowds pour'd in from ev'ry fide;
All feem'd to start a diff'rent game,
Yet all declar'd their views the fame :
The chace was Happiness, I found;
But all, alas! enchanted ground.

Indeed, I judg'd it wondrous ftrange,
To fee the giddy numbers range
Thro' roads which promis'd nought, at best,
But forrow to the human breaft.
Methought, if blifs was all their view,
Why did they diff 'rent paths purfue?
The waking world has long agreed,
That Bagfhot 's not the road to Tweed;
And he who Berwick feeks thro' Staines,
Shall have his labour for his pains.

As Parnell fays, my bofom wrought
With travail of uncertain thought;
And, as an angel help'd the dean,
My angel chofe to intervene.

The drefs of each was much the fame;
And Virtue was my feraph's name.
When thus the angel filence broke;
Her voice was mufic as the fpoke:

Attend, O man! nor leave my fide, And fafety fhall thy footsteps guide; Such truths I'll teach, fuch fecrets fhow, As none but favour'd mortals know.'

She said and ftraight we march'd along
To join Ambition's active throng:
Crowds urg'd on crowds with eager pace,
And happy he who led the race.
Axes and daggers lay unfeen
In ambufcade along the green :
While vapours fhed delufive light,
And bubbles mock'd the diftant fight.

We faw a fhining mountain rife,
Whofe tow'ring fummit reach'd the skies;
The flopes were freep, and form'd of glass,
Painful and hazardous to pafs:
Courtiers and statefmen led the way,
The faithlefs paths their steps betray;

This moment feen aloft to foar,
The next to fall, and rife no more.
'Twas here Ambition kept her court,
A phantom of gigantic port:

6

The fav'ite that fuftain'd her throne
Was Falfehood, by her vizard known ;
Next stood Miftruft, with frequent figh,
Diforder'd look, and fquinting eve;
While meagre Envy claim'd a place;
And Jealoufy, with jaundic'd face.

But where is Happinefs 'I cried.
My guardian turn'd, and thus replied:
Mortal, by Folly fill beguil'd,
Thou haft not yet outftripp'd the child;
Thou who haft twenty winters feen
(I hardly think thee past fifteen)
To afk if happiness can dwell
With ev'ry dirty imp of hell!
"Go to the fchool-boy; he fhall preach
What twenty winters cannot teach;
He 'll tell thee, from his weekly theme,
That thy purfuit is all a dream;
That blifs ambitious views difowns,
And, felf-dependent, laughs at thrones;
Prefers the fhades, and lowly feats,
'Whither fair Innocence retreats.

So the coy lily of the vale

'Shuns eminence, and loves the dale.'

I blush'd; and now we crofs'd the plain,
To find the money-getting train;
Thofe filent, fnug, commercial bands,
With bufy looks, and dirty hands.
Amidst thefe thoughtful crowds, the old
Plac'd all their happiness in gold;
And furely, if there's blifs below,
These hoary heads the fecret know.
We journey'd with the plodding crew,
When foon a temple rofe to view;
A Gothic pile! with mofs o'ergrown;
Strong were the walls, and built with stone,
Without, a thousand maftiffs wait;
A thousand bolts fecure the gate.
We fought admiffion long in vain,
For here all favours fell for gain.
The greedy porter yields to goid;
His fee receiv'd, the gates unfold..
Affembled nations here we found,
And view'd the cringing herds around,
Who daily facrific'd to Wealth
Their honour, confcience, peace, and health,
I faw no charms that could engage;
The god appear'd like fordid age,
With hooked nofe, and famifh'd jaws,
But ferpent's eyes, and harpy's claws;
Behind ftood Fear, that reftlefs fprite,
Which haunts the watches of the night
And viper Care, that ftings fo deep,
Whofe deadly venom murders fleep,

We haften now to Pleasure's bow'rs,
Where the gay tribes fat crown'd with flow'rs;
Here Beauty ev'ry charm difplay'd,

And Love inflam'd the yielding maid;