And lovely thence the profpects. She cou'd tell

Where laurels grew, whence many a wreath antique ;
But more advis'd to shun the barren twig,

(What is immortal verdure without fruit ?)

And woo fome thriving art: her numerous mines

Were open to the fearcher's skill and pains.

Caught by th' harangue, heart beat, and flutt'ring pulfe Sounded irregular marches to be gone

What, pause a moment when Ambition calls?
No, the blood gallops to the diftant goal,
And throbs to reach it. Let the lame fit ftill.
When Fortune gentle, at th' hill's verge extreme,
Array'd in decent garb, but fomewhat thin,
Smiling approach'd; and what occafion, ask'd,
Of climbing? She, already provident,
Had cater'd well, if ftomach cou'd digeft
Her viands, and a palate not too nice :
Unfit, fhe faid, for perilous attempts;

That manly limb requir'd and finew tough :
She took, and laid me in a vale remote,

Amid the gloomy fcene of fir and yew,

On poppy beds, where Morpheus ftrew'd the ground :
Obfcurity her curtain round me drew,

And Syren Sloth a dull quietus fung.

Sithence no fairy lights, no quick'ning ray,

No ftir of pulfe, nor objects to entice
Abroad the fpirits: but the cloyfter'd heart
Sits fquat at home, like pagod in a niche
Obfcure, or grandees with nod-watching eye,
And folded arms, in prefence of the throne,
Turk, or Indoftan.-Cities, forums, courts,
And prating fanhedrims, and drumming wars,

Affect

Affect no more than stories told to bed

Lethargic, which at intervals the fick

Hears and forgets, and wakes to doze again,
Inftead of converse and variety,

The fame trite round, the same ftale filent scene:

Such are thy comforts, bleffed Solitude !---
But Innocence is there, but Peace all kind,

And fimple Quiet with her downy couch,

Meads lowing, tune of birds, and lapse of streams,
And faunter with a book, and warbling Muse

In praise of hawthorns.-Life's whole business this!
Is it to bafk i' th' fun? if fo a snail

Were happy crawling on a fouthern wall.

Why fits content upon a cottage fill
At eventide, and bleffeth the coarse meal
In footy corner ? why sweet flumber wait
Th' hard pallet? Not becaufe from haunt remote
Sequefter'd in a dingle's bushy lap :

'Tis labour makes the peasant's fav'ry fare,

And works out his repose: for Ease must ask
The leave of Diligence to be enjoy'd.

Oh! liften not to that enchantress Eafe
With seeming fmile; her palatable cup
By standing grows infipid; and beware
The bottom, for there's poison in the lees.
What health impair'd, and crowds inactive maim'd!
What daily martyrs to her fluggish cause !
Lefs ftrict devoir the Rufs and Perfian claim
Defpotic; and as fubjects long inur'd
To fervile burthen grow fupine and tame,
So fares it with our fov'reign and her train.
What tho' with lure fallacious she pretend
From worldly bondage to fet free, what gain
G

Her

Her votaries? What avails from iron chains

Exempt, if rofy fetters bind as fast ?

Beftir, an answer your creation's end.

Think we that man, with vig'rous pow'r endow'd
And room to ftretch, was deftin'd to fit ftill?
Sluggards are Nature's rebels, flight her laws,
Nor live up to the terms on which they hold
Their vital leafe. Laborious terms and hard;
But fuch the tenure of our earthly state!
Riches and fame are Industry's reward;
The nimble runner courses Fortune down,
And then he banquets, for the feeds the bold.
Think what you owe your country, what yourself.
If fplendor charm not, yet avoid the fcorn,
That treads on lowly stations. Think of fome
Affiduous booby mounting o'er your head,
And thence with faucy grandeur looking down:
Think of (Reflection's ftab !) the pitying friend
With shoulder shrugg'd and forry. Think that Time
Has golden minutes, if difcreetly feiz’'d;

And if fome fad example, indolent,

To warn and scare be wanting-think of me.

CHA P. XX.

ELEGY ΤΟ A YOUNG NOBLEMAN

E

LEAVING

THE

UNIVERSITY

RE yet, ingenuous Youth, thy fteps retire

From Cam's fmooth margin, and the peaceful vale, Where Science call'd thee to her ftudious quire, And met thee mufing in her cloysters pale; O! let thy friend (and may he boast the name) Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay!

A lay

A lay like this thy early Virtues claim,
And this let voluntary Friendship pay.

Yet know, the time arrives, the dangerous time,
When all thofe Virtues, opening now fo fair,
Transplanted to the world's tempeftuous clime,
Muft learn each Paffion's boift'rous breath to bear.
There if Ambition, peftilent and pale,

Or luxury fhould taint their vernal glow;
If cold Self-intereft, with her chilling gale,
Should blaft th' unfolding bloffoms ere they blow;
If mimic hues, by Art, or Fashion spread,

Their genuine, fimple colouring should supply ;
O! with them may these laureate honours fade ;
And with them (if it can) my friendship die.
-And do not blame, if, tho' thyfelf infpire,
Cautious I ftrike the panegyric ftring;
The Mufe full oft purfues a meteor fire,
And vainly vent'rous, foars on waxen wing.
Too actively awake at Friendship's voice,

The poet's bofom pours the fervent ftrain,
'Till fad reflection blames the hafty choice,
And oft invokes Oblivion's aid in vain.
Go then, my Friend, nor let thy candid breast
Condemn me, if I check the plaufive string;
Go to the wayward world; compleat the reft;
Be, what the pureft Mufe wou'd wish to fing.
Be ftill thyself; that open path of Truth,
Which led thee here, let Manhood firm purfue;
Retain the sweet fimplicity of Youth,

And all thy virtue dictates, dare to do,

Still fcorn, with confcious pride, the mafk of Art;
On Vice's front let fearful Caution lour,

nd teach the diffident, difcreeter part

Of knaves that plot, and fools that fawn for power.
So, round thy brow when age's honours spread,
When death's cold hand unftrings thy MASON's lyré,
When the green turf lies lightly on his head,

Thy worth fhall fome fuperior bard inspire :
He to the ampleft bounds of Time's domain,

On Rapture's plume fhall give thy Name to fly; For truft, with rev'rence trust this Sabine strain : The Mufe forbids the virtuous Man to die.”

MASON.

CHA P. XXI.

ON THE MISERIES OF HUMAN LIFE.

A

H little think the gay licentious proud,

Whom pleasure, power, and affluence furround;

They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth,
And wanton, often cruel, riot wafte;

Ah little think they, while they dance along,
How many feel, this very moment, death,
And all the fad variety of pain :

How many fink in the devouring flood,
Or more devouring flame : how many bleed,
By shameful variance betwixt Man and Man:
How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms;
Shut from the common air, and common ufe
Of their own limbs: how many drink the cup
Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread
Of mifery; fore pierc'd by wintry winds,
How
many fhrink into the fordid hut
Of cheerlefs poverty: how many fhake