« PreviousContinue »
MEDITATION IN A GROVE.
SWEET Muse, descend and bless the shade,
But hence, ye wanton young and fair,
No Phillis shall infect the air
JESUS has all my pow'rs possest,
My hopes, my fears, my joys:
Some of the fairest choirs above
Sound from a mortal tongue.
His charms shall make my numbers flow,
I'll carve our passion on the bark,
Shall drop and bear some mystic mark
The swains shall wonder when they read
That Heav'n itself came down, and bled
HERO'S SCHOOL OF MORALITY.
THERON among his travels found
Yet ere he pass'd, with much ado
Enough," he cry'd; "I'll drudge no more, "In turning the dull Stoics o'er:
"Let pedants waste their hours of ease
"To cure ambition: I can learn
"Methinks a mould'ring pyramid
"That lately wars and crowns design'd,
"The tow'ring height and frightful falls,
"That living could not bear to see "An equal, now lies torn and dead, "Here his pale trunk, and there his head; "Great Pompey! while I meditate "With solemn horror thy sad fate,
Thy carcass scatter'd on the shore "Without a name, instructs me more "Than my whole library before.
"Lie still, my Plutarch, then, and sleep, "And my good Seneca may keep "Your volumes clos'd for ever too, "I have no further use for "For when I feel my virtue fail, "And my ambitious thoughts prevail; “I'll take a turn among the tombs, "And see whereto all glory comes. "There the vile foot of ev'ry slave, "Insults a Charles or a Gustave: "Beggars with awful ashes sport, "And tread the Cæsars in the dirt."
I AM not concern'd to know,
Yet to-morrow I shall be
Heir to the best part of me.
Glitt❜ring stones and golden things, Wealth and honours that have wings, Ever flutt'ring to be gone, I could never call my own: Riches that the world bestows, She can take and I can lose ; But the treasures that are mine, Lie afar beyond her line: When I view my spacious soul, And survey myself awhole, And enjoy myself alone, I'm a kingdom of my own.
I've a mighty part within That the world hath never seen,