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Versid in the woes and vanities of life, To make humanity the minister
He pitied Man: and much he pitied those Of bountcous Providence; and teach the breast
Whom falsely-Smiling Fate has curs d with incans That gen rous luxury the gods enjoy.
To dilipate their days in quest of joy.

Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly fage
Our aim is happiness : 'tis yours, 'tis minc, Sometimes declaim d. Of right and wrong he
He said ; 'tis the pursuit of all that live :

taught Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain d.

Truths as refin'd as ever Athens heard ;
But they the widest wander from the mark, And (strange to tell!) he practis'd what he
Who thro' the How'ry paths of faunt’ring joy

Seck this coy goddess; that froin stage to itage Skill'd in the paflions, how to check their fway
Invites us still, but shifts as we puríue.

He knew, as far as reason can controul
For, not to name the pains that pleasure brings The lawless pow'rs. But other carcs are mine:
To counterpoise itself, relentleis Fate

Form'd in the school of Pæon, I relate
Forbids that we thro' gay voluptuous wilds What pallions hurt the body, what improve ;
Should ever roam : and were the fates more kind, Avoid them, or invite them, as you may.
Our narrow luxuries would soon be ftale.

Know then, whatever chcciful and serene Were these exhaustless, Nature would grow fick; Supports the mind, supports the body too. And, cloy'd with picasure, fqueamihly complain Hence, the most vital movement mortals feel That all was vanity, and life a dream.

Is Hope, the balm and life-blood of the foul: Let nature reft: be buty for yourself,

It pleases, and it latts. Indulgent Heaven
Ard for your friend; be busy ev'n in vain, Sent down the kind delusion, thro' the pathis
Rather than teaze her fated appetites.

Of rugsed life to lead us patient on,
Who never fasts, no banquets e’er enjoys ; And make our happiest state no tedious thing.
Who never toils or watches, never sleeps. Our greatest good, and what we least can Ipare,
Lct nature reft: and when the tafte of joy Is Hope; the last of all our evils, Fear.
Grows keen, indulge; but shun satiety.

But there are paflions grateful to the breast,
'Tis not for mortals always to be bles. And yet no friends to life : perhaps they please
But him the least the dull or painful hours Or to excess, and diilipate the foul; clown,
Of life oppress, whom tober Sente conducts, Or, while they pleate, torment. The stubborn
And Virtue, thro' this labyrinth we tread. Tlie ill-tam'd rushian, and palc usurer,
Virtue and Senfe I mean not to disjoin ; (If love's omnipotence such hearts can mould)
Virtue and Senic are one : and, trust me, still May tafely mcllow into love ;
A faithless heart betrays the head unfound. Retin'd, humane, and gen'rous, if they can.
Virtue (for mere good-nature is a fool)

Love in such bofoms never to a fault
I Sense and Spirit, with Humanity :

Or rains or plcafes. But, ye finer fouls,
'Tis sometiines angry, and its frown confounds; Form d to soft luxury, and prompt to thrill
'Tis ev’n vindictive, but in vengeance just. With all the tumults, all the joys and pains,
Knaves fain would laugh at it ; fome great oncs That beauty gises; with caution and reserve
But at his heart the most undaunted fon (dare; Indulge the tweet deftruver of repose,
Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms. Norcourt too much the Queen of charming cares,
To nobleit uses this determines wealth; For, while the cherith'd peiton in your breast
This is the folid pomp of prosp rous days, Ferments and maddens; fick with jealousy,
The peace and shelter of adverlity.

Absence, distrutt, or even with anxious joy,
And, if
you pant

for glory, build your fame The wholesome appetites and pow'rs of life On this foundation, which the fecret Thuck Diffolve in languor. The coy ftomach loaths Defies of Envy and all-lapping Time.

The genial board; your cheerful days are gone;
The gaudy gloss of Fortune only strikes The gen'rous bloomihat fluih'd vourcheeksis fed,
The vulgar eye; the fuffrage of the wise, To fighs devoted, and to tender pains,
The praise that's worth ambition, is attain'd Penfive you sit, or folitary strav,
By scnte alone, and dignity of mind.

And waite your youth in mufing. Musing first
Virtue, the Itrength and beauty of the foul, Toy'd into care your unfufpecting hcart :
Is the best gift of Heaven; a happiness It found a liking there, a sportful vire,
Thar er'n above the finiles and frowns of fate And that fomented into ferious love;
Exalts great Nature's favourites; a wealth Which musing daily strengthens and improves
That ne'er encumbers, nor to bater hands Thro' all the heighes of fondness and romance :
Can be transferr d: it is the only good

And you're undone, the fatal fhaft has fped,
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own. It once you doubt whether you love or no:
Riches are oft by guilt and batonefs earn’d; The body wastes away; th' infected mind,
Or dealt by chance, to shield a lucky krave, Ditšolvid in female tenderness, forgets
Or throw a cruel fun-fhine on a fool.

Each manly virtue, and grows dead to fame.
But for onc end, one much-neglected use, Sweet Heaven from fuch intoxicating charms
Are riches worth your care (for Nature's wants Defend all worthy breasts ! Not that I decm
Are few, and without opulence fupplied): Love always dangerous, always to be fhunn d.
This noble end is, to produce the foul; Love well repaid, and not too weakly funk
To fhew the virtues in the fairelt right;

In wanton and unmanly tenderness,


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Adds bloom to health; o'er ev'ry virtue lheds Envy, or ignominy, or tender grief,
A gay, humane, and amiable grace,

Slowly defcends, and ling'ring, to the shades.
And brightens all the ornaments of man. But he whom ånger stings, drops, if he dies,
But fruitless, hopeless, disappointed, rack'd At once, and rulhes apoplectic down;
With jealousy, fatigued with hope and fear, Or a fierce fever hurries him to hell.
Too ferious, or too languishingly fond,

For, as the body thro' unnumber'd strings Unnerves the body, and unmans the foul. Reverberates each vibration of the soul; And some have died for love, and fome run mad; As is the paffion, such is fill the pain Androme with desp'ratc hand themselves have slain. The body feels; or chronic, or acute. Somc to extinguish, others to prevent,

And oft a sudden storm at once n'erpow'rs A mad devotion to one dang'rous Fair,

The life, or gives your reason to the winds. Court all they meet; in hopes to diflipate Such fates attend the rafh alarm of fear, The cares of love amongst an hundred brides. And sudden grief, and rage, and sudden jov. Th'event is doub ful: for there are who find · There are, meantime, to whoin the boist'rous fis A cure in this; there are who find it not. Is health, and only fills the sails of lifc; 'Tis no relict, alas! it rather galls

For where the mind a torpid winter leads, The wound, to those who are sincerely sick. Wrapt in a body corpulent and cold, For while from fer'rith and tumultuvus joys And cach clogy'd function lazily moves on, The nerves grow languid, and the foui fubfides, A generous tally spurns th’incumbent load, The tender fancy smarts with ev'ry fing, Unlocks the breast, and gives a cordial glow. And what was icve before is madness now. But, if your wrathful blood is apt to boil, Is health your care, or luxury your aim ? Or are your nerves too irritably itrung, Be temperate still : when Nature bids, obey; Wave all dispute ; be cautious if you joke, Her wild impatient sallies bear no cuib:

Keep Lent for cver, and forfivear the bowl; But when the prurient habit of delight,

For one rath moment sends you to the shades, Or Icote imagination, spurs you on

Or shatters ev'ry hopeful scheme of lifc, To deeds above your strength, impute it not And gives to horror all your days to come. To Nature; Nature all compulfion hates. Fate, arm'd with thunder, fire, and ev'ry plague Ah! let nor luxury nor vain renown

That ruins, tortures, or distracts mankird, Urge you to fcats you well might sleep without; And makes the happy wretched, in an huur To make what should be rapture a fatigue, O'erwhelms you not with woes 10 horrible A tedious taik ; nor in the wanton arms As your own wrath, nor gives more fudden hlows. Of twining Lais melt your manhood down. While choler works, good friend, you may be For from the colliquiation of soft joys

wrong ; How chang d you rise! the gheft of what you was! Distrust yourielf, and sleep before you fight. Languid and inclancholy, gaunt and wan, 'Tis not too late to-morrow to be brave; Your cins exhaustest, and your nerves uuftrung. If honour bids, to-morrow kill or die. Spoil'd of its baim and sprightly zuli, the blood But calm advice against a raging fit Grows vapid phlegm ; along the render nerves Avails too little; and it braves the pow'r (To cach ilight impulfe tremblingly awake) Of all that ever taught in profe or long, A subtle fiend that inimics all the plagues, To tame the fiend that sleeps a gentle lamb, Rapid and restless, springs from part to part. And wakis a lion. Unprovok'd and calın, The blooming honours of your youth are fallen; You rcaton well, fue as you ought to fce, Your vigour pines; your vital pow'rs decay; And wonder at the madnets of mankind; Difcales haunt you ; and untimely age

Sciz'd with the common rage, you toon forget Creeps on, unfocial, impotent, and lewd. The speculation of your wiler hours. Infatuate, impious cpicure ! to waste

Belet with furies of all deadly fhapes, The fiores of pleasure, cheerfulness, and health! | Fierce and insidious, violent and flow, Infatuate all who make delight their trade, With all that urge or lure us on to fate, And coy perdition ev'ry hour pursue.

What refuge thall we feck, what arms prepare W'ho pincs with love, or in lafcivious flames Where rcalon proves too weak, or void of wiles, Consumes, is with his own content undone ; To cope with łub:le or impetuous pow'rs, He chutes to be wretched, to be mad,

I would invoke new pallions to your aid; And warn'd proceeds and wilful to his fate. With indignation would extinguit fear, But there's a passion, whole tempettuous tway: With fear ir generous pity vanquish sage, Tears up each virtue planted in the breast, And love with pride; and force to force oppose. And Thakes to ruin proud Philofophy.

There is a charm, a pow'r that fivays the breast; For pale and trembling Anger rushes in, Bids every pallion revel or be still; With faultcring speech, and eyes that wildly starc; | Iufpires with rage, or all your cares diffolves; Fierce as the tiger, madder than the feas, Can footh diftračtiin, and almost despair. Dusperate, and arm’d with more than human That pow'r is music: far beyond the stretch strength.

Of those unmeaning warblers on our stage; How soon the calm, humane, and polith'd man Those clumty lacrocs, those fat-headed gods, Forgets compunction, and starts up a fiind ! Who move no pallion juftly but contempt; Who pines in love, or wastes with filent cares, Who, like our dancers cigle indeed and fiong'?,


Do wondrous feats, but never heard of grace. To Contemplation's sober eye
The fault is ours; we bear those monstrous arts : Such is the race of man ;
Good Heaven! we praise them; we with loudest And they that creep, and they that Ay,

Shall end where they began.
Applaud the fool that highest lifts his heels, Alike the busy and the gay
And with infipid fhow of rapture dic

But futter thro' life's little day, Of idiot notes impertinently long.

In fortune’s varying colours drest:
But he the Mate's laurel justly thares,

Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance,
A poet he, and touch'd with Heaven's own fire, Or chilld by age, thcir airy dance
Who with bold rage, or solemn pomp of sounds, They leavc, in duft to rest.
Inflames, exaits, and ravishes the foul;

Methinks I hear, in accents low,
Now tender, plaintive, Tweet almost to pain,

The sportive kind reply ;
In love ditlolves you ; now in iprightly strains

Poor mora ist! and what art thou?
Breathes a gay rapture thro' your thrilling breast,
Or melts the heart with airs divinely fad,

A lolita y fly!
Or wakes to horror the tremendous strings.

Thy joys no glitt’ring female meets,

No hive haft thou of hoarded sweets,
Such was the bard whose heavenly strains of old
Appeas'd the fiend of melancholy Saul.

No painted plumage to display :
Such was, if oid and heathen faine say true,

On hafty wings thy youth is flown ;

Thy fun is fet, thy spring is goncm
The man who bade the Theban domes ascend,

We frolic while 'tis May.
And tam'd the favage nations with his fong ;
And such the Thracian, whose harmonious lyre,
Tun’d to foft woc, made all the mountains weep;
Sooth'd ev’n th'inexorable pow'rs of Hell,
And lialf redeem'd his loft Eurydice.

$ 69. Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat, Music exalts euch joy, allays each grief,

drowned in a Tub of Gold Fibes. Expels dilcafes, fuftens ev ry pain,

GRAY. Subclues the rage of poifon, and the plague;

'TWAS on a lofty vase's fide, And hence the wife of ancient days ador'd

Where China's gayest art had dyed
One pow'r of phyhe, melody and long.

The azure flow'rs that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,

The pensive Selima, reclind,
§ 68. Ode on the String. GRAY.

Gaz'd on the lake below.
O! where the rosy-bofom'd hours,

Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
Fair Venus' train, appear ;

The fair round face, the snowy beard, Disclose the long-expected flow’rs,

The velvet of her paws ! And wake the purple year!

Her coat that with the tortoise vies, The Attic wai bler pours her throat,

Her cars of jet, and em'rald eyes, Responsive to the cuckoo's note,

She faw, and purr'd applaufe. The untaught harmony of spring;

Still had the gaz'd; but ’midst the tide While, whip'ring pleasure as they fly,

Two angel forms were seen to glide, Cool Zephyrs thro' the clear blue sky

The Genii of the stream : Their gather'd fragrance fling.

Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue, Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch

Thro' richest purple, to the view
A broader, browner fhide ;

Betray'd a golden gleam.
Where'er the rude and moss-grown becch The hapless nymph with wonder saw :
O'ercar opics the glade;

A whisker first, and then a claw,
Beside some water's rulhy brink

With many an ardent with, With me the Muse shall fit, and think

She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize : (At cafe reclin d in rustic state)

What female heart can gold despite ? How vain the ardour of the crowd,

What cat's averse to hith? How low, how little are the proud,

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent How indigent the great !

Again the stretchd, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulph between :
Still is the toiling hand of Care ;
The panting herds repose :

(Malignant Fate fat by and smild); Yet, hark, how thro' the peopled air

The flipp’ry verge her feet beguild, The busy murmur glaws !

She tumbled headlong in. The infect youth are on the wing,

Eight times emerging from the food, Eager to taste the honey'd spring,

She mew'd to ev'ry wat'ry god, And float amid the liquid noon :

Some speedy aid to fend. Some lightly o’er the current skim,

No dolphin caie, no Nereid stirr'd; Some shew their gaily-gilded trim

Nor cruel Tom nór Susan heard Quick-glancing to the sun,

A fay’rite has no friend!


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From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd,

Yet see, how all around 'em wait
Know, one falfe step is ne'er retriev'd,

The ministers of human fate,
And be with caution bold.

And black Misfortune's baleful train !
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes, Ah, lhew them where in ambush ttand,
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize ;

To seize their prey, the muru'rous band ! Nor all that glitters, gold.

Ah, tell them they are men !

These shall the fury pallions tcar,
$ 70. Ode on a distant Prospect of Eton College. The vultures of the mind,

GRAY. Disdainful anger, pallid fear,
Y& diftant fpires, ye antique tow'rs,

And thame that ikulks behind ;
That crown the wat’ry glade,

Or pining love shall waste their youth,
Where grateful Science ftill adores

Or jealousy with rankling tooth,
Her Henry's holy lhade;

That inly gnaws the fecret heart;
And ye, that from the stately brow

And envy wan, and faded care,
Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Grim-vilag'd comfortless despair,
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,

And sorrow's piercing dart.
Whose turf, whole fhade, whoíe How'rs among

Ambition this shall tempt to rise ;
Wanders the hoary Thames along

Then whirl the wretch from high,
His filver-winding way.

To bitter scorn a sacrifice,
Ah happy hills ! ah pleasing lhade !

And grinning infamy.
Ah ficlds belov'd in vain !

The itings of falsehood those fall try,
Where once my careless childhood stray'd, And hard unkindness' alter'd eye,
A stranger yet to pain!

That mocks the tear it forc'd to How;
I feel the gales that from

And kein remorfe with blood defil'd,
A momentary bliss bestow";

And moody madness laughing wild
As waving freth their gladsome wing,

Amid feverest woe.
My weary soul they seem to sooth,

Lo! in the vale of years, beneath,
And, redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.

A grilly troop are seen,

The painful family of Death,
Say, father Thames, for thou hast seen

More hideous than their

qucen : Full many a sprightly race,

This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
Disporting on thy margent green,

That ev'ry labouring finew strains,
The paths of pleasure trace ;

Those in the deeper vitals rage :
Who foremost now delight to cleave,

Lo! poverty, to fill the band,
With pliant arms, thy glassy wave ?

That numbs the soul with icy hand,
The captive linnet which enthral?

And flow-consuming age.
What idle progeny succeed

To each his suff'rings: all are men,
To chase the rolling circle's speed,

Condemn'd alike to groan ;
Or urge the flying ball ?

The tender for another's pain,
While some on carnet business bent

Th’unfeeling for his own.
Their murmuring labours ply

Yet, ah! why should they know their fate?
'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint Since sorrow never comes too late,
To sweeten liberty :

And happiness too swiftly files.
Some bold adventurers disdain

Thought would destroy their paradise.
The limits of their little reign,

No more where ignorance is bliss,
And unknown regions dare descry :

'Tis folly to be wilc.
Suill as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in ev'ry wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

§ 71. Ode to Adverhty. GRAY. Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed,

DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless pow'r, Leis pleafug when poffcft;

Thou tamer of the human breast, The tear forgot as soon as shed,

Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour
The sunshine of the breast:

The bad affright, afflict the beit !
Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,

Bound in thy adamantine chain,
Wild wit, invention ever new,

The proud are taught to taste of pain;
And lively cheer, of vigour born;

And purple tyrants vainly groan
The thoughtless day, the easy night,

With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
The spirits pure, the numbers light,

When first thy Sire to send on earth
That fly th’approach of morn.

Virtue, his darling child, design'd,
Alas! regardless of their doom,

To thee he gave the heavenly birth,
The little victims play!.

And bade to form her infant mind.
No sense have they of ills to me,

Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
Nor care beyond to-day:

With patience many a year the bore ;



What forrow was, thou bad'ft her know, Quench'd in dark clouds of sumber lie And from her own the learnt to melt at others woe. The terror of his beak, and lightning of his eye. Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly

I. 3. Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,

Thee the voice, the dance obcy, Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy, Temper d to thy warbled lay. And leave us leisure to be good.

O'er Idalia's velvet grecn
Light they disperse; and with them go

The rosy-crowned loves are seen
The suminer-friend, the flatt’ring foe; On Cytherea's day,
By vain prosperity receiv'd,

With antic sports, and blue-eyed pleasures,
To her they vow their truth, and are again bclicv'd. Frisking light in frolic measures;
Wisdom in fable garb array’d,

Now pursuing, now retreatings Immers'd in rapt rous thought profound,

Now in circling troops they meet ; And Melancholy, filent maid,

To brisk notes in cadence bcating, With Icaden eye that loves the ground,

Glance their many-twinkling fout. Still on thy folemn steps attend;

Slow meluing strainstheirQueen's approach diciare: Warm Charity, the general friend,

Where'er the turns, the Graces hoinage pay. With Justice, to hertelf severe,

With armıs sublime, that float upon the air, And Pity, dropping soft the fadly-pleasing tear. In gliding ftate the wins her caly way: Ch, gently on thy suppliant's head,

C'er her warm check, and rising buiom, more Dread Goddess, say thy chast’ning hand !

The bloom of young desire,and purplelightoflore, Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,

II. 1. Nor circled with the vengeful band

Man's fecble racc what ills await! (As by the impious thou art seen)

Labour, and penury, the racks of pain, With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien, Ditcaic, and jorrow's weeping train;

With screaming Horror's fun’ral cry, And death, sad refuge from the storms of fate! Despair, and fell Disease, and ghaftly Poverty. The fond complaint, my fong, difprove, Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,

And justify the laws of Jove. Thy milder influence impart ;

Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse ? Thy philofophic train be there

Night, and all her fickily dows, To foften, not to wound, my heart.

Hier fpectres wan, and birds of boding cry, The gen'rous fpark extinct revive;

He gives to range the dreary sky:

Till down the castern cliffs afar
Teach me to love, and to forgive;
Exact my own defects to scan;

Hyperion's march they fpy, and glitt'ring shafts

of war. Wl'hat otheis arc, to feel; and know myself a man.


In clincs betond the solar road, § 72. The Progress of Poefy. A Pindaric Ode. Where thaggy formso'erice-buiit mountains roam,


The Mute has broke the twilight gloom,

To cheer the shiv’ring native's dull abode.

And ofi, beneath the od'rous shade
AWAKE, Æolian lyre, arake,

Of Chili's bourdless forests laid,
And give to rasture all thy trembling strings. She deigns to hear the favore youth repeat,
From Helicon's harmonious fprings

bu loole numbers, wildly ficet, A thoutand rilis their mazy progress take:, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. The laughing How'rs that round them blow,

Her track, where'er the goddets roves, Drink lite and fragrance as they flow.

Glory pursues, and gen'rous Mame, Now the rich streain of music winds along,

Th'unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame. Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Thro'verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign : Now rolling down the steep amain,

Woods, that wave o’er Delphi's ftcep; Headlong, iippetuous, see it pour;

Iles, that crown th' Egean duep; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar. Fields, that cool Iliflus laves,

Or where Mæander's amber waves

Ir ling‘ring lab'rinths crcep, o fovereign of the willing foul,

How do your tureful echoes languish,
Parent of fiveet and folemn-breathing airs, Mute but to the voice of arguith!
Enchanting thel!! the fullen cares

Were each old poetic mountain
And frantic pailions hcar thy soft controul. Inspiration breath d around;
On Thracia's hils the Lord of War

Ev'ry thade and halloiv'd funtain
Has curb'd the fury of his car,

Murmur'd deep a folemn found :
And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command. Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour,
Perching on the sceptred hand

Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains, Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king Alike thcy fcorn the pomp of tyrant pow'r, With ruffled plumes, and fagging wing: And coward vice, that revels in her chains.



II. 3

1. 2.

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