Have rambl'd wide. In country, city, feat
Of academic fame (howe'er deferv'd)
Long held, and scarcely difengag'd at last.
But now with pleasant pace, a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous, and refresh'd for future toil,
If toil await me, or if dangers new.
Since pulpits fail, and founding-boards reflect
Most part an empty ineffectual found,
What chance that I, to fame fo little known,
Nor converfant with men or manners, much,
Should speak to purpose, or with better hope
Crack the fatyric thong? 'twere wiser far
For me enamour'd of fequefter'd scenes,
And charm'd with rural beauty, to repofe
Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or vine,
My languid limbs when summer fears the plains,
Or when rough winter rages, on the foft
And belter'd Sofa, while the nitrous air
Feeds a blue flame and makes a chearful hearth
There undisturb'd by folly, and appriz'd
How great the danger of disturbing her,
To mufe in filence, or at least confine
Remarks that gall fo many, to the few
My partners in retreat. Difguft conceal'd
Is oft-times proof of wisdom, when the fault-
Is obftinate, and cure beyond our reach.
Domeftic happinefs, thou only blifs
Of Paradife that has furviv'd the fall!
Though few now tafte thee unimpair'd and pure,
Or tafting, long enjoy thee, too infirm
Or too incautious to preferve thy fweets
Unmixt with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper fheds into thy chryftal cup.
Thou art the nurse of virtue. In thine arms
She fmiles, appearing, as in truth-fhe is,
Heav'n born and deftin'd to the skies again.
Thou art not known where pleasure is ador'd,
That reeling goddefs, with the zoneless waift,
And wand'ring eyes, ftill leaning on the arm
Of novelty, her fickle frail fupport;
For thou art meek and conftant, hating change,
And finding in the calm of truth-tied love,
Joys that her ftormy raptures never yield.
Forfaking thee, what fhipwreck have we made
Of honor, dignity, and fair renown,
'Till prostitution elbows us afide
In all our crowded streets, and fenates feem
Conven❜d for purposes of empire lefs,
Than to release th' adultrefs from her bond.
Th' adultrefs! what a theme for
angry verse,
What provocation to th' indignant heart
That feels for injur'd love! but I disdain
The naufeous task to paint her as she is,
Cruel, abandon'd, glorying in her shame.
No. Let her pass, and chariotted along
In guilty fplendor, fhake the public ways;
The frequency of crimes has wash'd them white.
And verse of mine fhall never brand the wretch,
Whom matrons now of character unfmirch'd
And chafte themselves, are not afham'd to own.
Virtue and vice had bound'ries in old time
Not to be pafs'd. And fhe that had renounc'd
Her fex's honor, was renounc'd herfelf
By all that priz'd it; not for prud'ry's fake,
But dignity's, refentful of the wrong.
'Twas hard perhaps on here and there a waif
Defirous to return, and not receiv'd,
But was an wholesome rigor in the main,
And taught th' unblemish'd to preserve with care
That purity, whofe lofs was lofs of all,
Men too were nice in honor in those days,
And judg'd offenders well. And he that sharp'd,”
And pocketted a prize, by fraud obtain'd,
Was mark'd and shunn'd as odious. He that fold
His country, or was flack when the requir'd
His ev'ry nerve in action, and at stretch,
Paid with the blood that he had bafely fpar'd,
The price of his default. But now, yes, now,
We are become fo candid and fo fair,
So lib'ral in conftruction, and fo rich
In Chriftian charity, a good-natur'd age!
That they are fafe, finners of either sex,
Tranfgress what laws they may. Well drefs'd, well bred,
Well equipag'd, is ticket good enough
To pafs us readily through ev'ry door.
Hypocrify, deteft her as we may,
(And no man's hatred ever wrong'd her yet).
May claim this merit ftill, that fhe admits
The worth of what the mimics with fuch care,
And thus gives virtue indirect applause;
But fhe has burnt her mask, not needed here,
Where vice has fuch allowance, that her fhifts
And fpecious femblances have left their use.
I was a ftricken deer that left the herd
Long fince; with many an arrow deep infixt
My panting fide was charg'd when I withdrew
To feek a tranquil death in diftant shades.
There was I found by one who had himself
Been hurt by th' archers. In his fide he bore
And in his hands and feet the cruel fcars.
With gentle force foliciting the darts
He drew them forth, and heal'd and bade me live. Since then, with few affociates, in remote "And filent woods I wander, far from those My former partners of the peopl'd scene, With few affociates, and not wifhing more. Here much I ruminate, as much I may, With other views of men and manners now Than once, and others of a life to come. I fee that all are wand'rers, gone aftray Each in his own delufions; they are loft In chace of fancy'd happiness, still woo'd And never won. Dream after dream ensues, And ftill they dream that they shall ftill fucceed, And ftill are difappointed; rings the world With the vain ftir. I fum up half mankind, Aud add two-thirds of the remainder half,
And find the total of their hopes and fears
Dreams, empty dreams. The million flit as gay
As if created only like the fly
That spreads his motley wings in th' eye of noon
To sport their feason, and be seen no more.
The reft are fober dreamers, grave and wise,
And pregnant with discov'ries new and rare.
Some write a narrative of wars and feats
Of heroes little known, and call the rant,
An history. Describe the man, of whom
His own coævals took but little note,
And paint his person, character and views,
As they had known him from his mother's, womb.
They difentangle from the puzzled skein
In which obfcurity has wrapp'd them up,
The threads of politic and fhrewd defign
That ran through all his purposes, and charge
His mind with meanings that he never had,
Or having, kept conceal'd. Some drill and bore
The folid earth, and from the ftrata there
Extract a register, by which we learn
That he who made it and reveal'd its date
To Mofes, was miftaken in its age.
Some more acute and more induftr'ous ftill
Contrive creation. Travel nature up
To the sharp peak of her fublimest height,
And tell us whence the ftars. Why fome are fixt
And planetary fome. What gave them first
Rotation, from what fountain flow'd their light.
Great conteft follows, and much learned duft
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