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Some small pre-eminence; we justly boast And, arm'd himself in panoply complete
At least superior jockeyship, and claim

Of heav'nly terper, furnishes with arms
The honors of the turf as all our own!

Bright as his own, and trains, by ev'ry rule Go then, well worthy of the praise ye seek, of holy discipline, to glorious war And show the shame, ye might conceal at home, The sacramental host of God's elect! In foreign eyes —be grooms, and win the plate, Are all such teachers ?-Would to Heaven all were! Where once your nobler fathers won a crown- But hark-the doctor's voice! fast wedg'd between "Tis gen'rous to communicate your skill

Two empirics be stands, and with swoln cheeks To those that need it. Folly is soon learn'd: Inspires the news, his trumpet. Keener far And under such preceptors who can fail ?

Than all invective is his bold harangue, There is a pleasure in poetic pains,

While through that public organ of report Which only poets know. The shifts and turns, He hails the clergy; and, defying shame, Th' expedients and inventions multiform,

Announces to the world his own and theirs !
To which the mind resorts, in chase of terms He teaches those to read, whom schools dismiss 'd,
Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to win- And colleges, untaught; sells accent, tone,
T' arrest the fleeting images, that fill

And emphasis in score, and gives to pray's
The mirror of the mind, and hold them fast, Th' adagio and andante it demands.
And force them sit, till be has pencil'd off He grinds divinity of other days
A faithful likeness of the forms he views ; Down into modern use ; transforms old print
Then to dispose his copies with such art,

To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes
That, each may find its most propitious light, Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.
And shine by situation, hardly less

Are there who purchase of the doctor's ware ! Than by the labor and the skill it cost;

O name it not in Gath it cannot be, Are occupations of the poet's mind

That grave and learned clerks should need such aid So pleasing, and that steal away the thought He doubtless is in sport, and does but droll, With such address from themes of sad import, Assuming thus a rank unknown beforeThat lost in his own musings, happy man! Grand caterer and dry-nurse of the church! He feels th' anxieties of life, denied

I venerate the man, whose heart is warm, Their wonted entertainment, all retire.

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life Such joys has he that sings. But ah! not such, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof, Or seldom such, the hearers of his song.

That he is honest in the sacred cause. Fastidious, or else listless, or perhaps

To such I render more than mere respect, Aware of nothing arduous in a task

Whose actions say, that they respect themselves. They never undertook, they little note

But loose in morals, and in manners vain,
His dangers or escapes, and haply find

In conversation frivolous, in dress
Their least amusement where he found the most. Extreme, at once rapacious and profuse ;
But is amusement all? Studious of song,

Frequent in park, with lady at his side,
And yet ambitious not to sing in vain,

Ambling and pratiling scandal as he goes ; I would not trifle merely, though the world But rare at home, and never at his books, Be loudest in their praise, who do no more. Or with his pen, save when he scrawls a card; Yet what can satire, whether grave or gay?

Constant at routs, familiar with a round It may correct a foible, may chastise

Of ladyships, a stranger to the poor;
The freaks of fashion, regulate the dress,

Ambitious of preferment for its gold,
Retrench a sword-blade, or displace a patch ; And well prepar'd, by ignorance and sloth,
But where are its sublimer trophies found ? By infidelity and love of world,
What vice has it subdued ? whose heart reclaim'd To make God's work a sinecure; a slave
By rigor, or whom laugh'd into reforin?

To his own pleasures and his patron's pride.
Alas! Leviathan is not so tam'd :

From such apostles, Oye mitred heads, Laugh'd at, he laughs again; and, stricken hard Preserve the church! and lay not careless hands Turns to the stroke his adamantine scales,

On skulls, that cannot teach, and will not learn. That fear no discipline of human hands.

Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, The pulpit, therefore, (and I name it fill'd Were he on Earth, would hear, approve, and own, With solemn awe, that bids me well beware Paul should himself direct me. I would trace With what intent I touch that holy thing,) - His master-strokes, and draw from his design. The pulpit, (when the sat’rist has at last,

I would express him simple, grave, sincere; Strutting and vap'ring in an empty school, In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, Spent all his force, and made no proselyte,

And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste, the pulpit (in the sober use

And natural in gesture; much impress'd Of its legitimate, peculiar pow'rs,)

Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, Must stand acknowledg’d, while the world shall stand, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds The most important and effectual guard,

May feel it too; affectionate in look, Support, and ornament, of virtue's cause.

And tender in address, as well becomes There stands the messenger of truth : there stands A messenger of grace to guilty men. The legate of the skies !-His theme divine, Behold the picture !- Is it like ?-Like whom? His office sacred, his credentials clear.

The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, By him the violated law speaks out

And then skip down again ; pronounce a text; Its thunders, and by him, in strains as sweet Cry—Hem; and reading what they never wrote As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace.

Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, He 'stablishes the strong, restores the weak, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene! Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart, In man or woman, but far most in man,


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And most of all in man that ministers

But swell'd into a gust—who then, alas! And serves the altar, in my soul I lothe

With all his canvass set, and inexpert, All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn!

And therefore heedless, can withstand thy pow'r?
Object of my implacable disgust.

Praise from the rivel'd lips of toothless bald
What!—will a man play tricks, will he indulge Decrepitude, and in the looks of lean
A silly fond conceit of his fair form,

And craving Poverty, and in the bow
And just proportion, fashionable mien,

Respectful of the smutch'd artificer, And pretty face, in presence of his God?

Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes,

The bias of the purpose. How much more, As with the diamond on his lily hand,

Pourd forth by beauty splendid and polite,
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes, In language soft as Adoration breathes !
When I am hungry for the bread of life?

Ah, spare your idol! think him human still.
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames Charms he may have, but he has frailties too!
His noble office, and, instead of truth,

Dote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire.
Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock.

All truth is from the sempiternial source Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare,

or light divine. But Egypi, Greece, and Rome, And start theatric, practis'd at the glass !

Drew from the stream below. More favor'd we
I seek divine simplicity in him

Drink, when we choose it, at the fountain-head.
Who handles things divine; and all besides, To them it flow'd much mingled and defild
Though learn’d with labor, and though much admir'd With hurtful error, prejudice, and dreams
By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform'd, Illusive of philosophy, so call’d,
To me is odious as the nasal twang

But falsely. Sages after sages strove
Heard at conventicle, where worthy men,

In vain to filter off a crystal draught
Misled by custom, strain celestial themes

Pure from the lees, which often more enhanc'd
Through the press'd nostril, spectacle-bestrid. The thirst than slak'd it, and not seldom bred
Some decent in demeanor while they preach, Intoxication and delirium wild.
That task perform'd, relapse into themselves; In vain they push'd inquiry to the birth
And having spoken wisely, at the close

And spring-time of the world; ask'd, Whence is man?
Grow wanton, and give proof to ev'ry eye, Why form'd at all? and wherefore as he is?
Whoe'er was edified, themselves were not!

Where must he find his Maker? with what rites
Forth comes the pocket-mirror.–First we stroke Adore him? Will he hear, accept, and bless ?
An eyebrow; next compose a straggling lock; Or does he sit regardless of his works?
Then with an air most gracefully perform'd Has man within him an immortal seed?
Fall back into our seat, extend an arm,

Or does the tomb take all ? If he survive
And lay it at its ease with gentle care,

His ashes, where? and in what weal or woe?
With handkerchief in hand depending low : Knots worthy of solution, which alone
The better hand more busy gives the nose A Deity could solve. Their answers, vague
Its bergamot, or aids th' indebied eye

And all at random, fabulous and dark,
With opera-glass, to watch the moving scene, Left them as dark themselves. Their rules of life,
And recognize the slow-retiring fair.-

Defective and unsanction’d, prov'd too weak
Now this is fulsome; and offends me more To bind the roving appetite, and lead
Than in a churchman slovenly neglect

Blind Nature to a God not yet reveal’d.
And rustic coarseness would. A heav'nly mind 'Tis Revelation satisfies all doubts,
May be indiff'rent to her house of clay,

Explains all mysteries, except her own,
And slight the hovel as beneath her care ;

And so illuminates the path of life, But how a body so fantastie, trim,

That fools discover it, and stray no more. And quaint, in its deportinent and attire,

Now tell me, dignified and sapient sir, Can louge a heav'nly mind-demands a doubt. My man of morals, nurtur'd in the shades

He, that negotiates between God and man, Of Academus-is this false or true?
As God's ambassador, the grand concerns

Is Christ the abler teacher, or the schools ?
Of judgment and of mercy, should beware If Christ, then why resort at ev'ry turn
Of lightness in his speech. "Tis pitiful

To Athens or to Rome, for wisdom short
To court a grin, when you should woo a soul ; of man's occasions, when in him reside
To break a jest, when pity would inspire Grace, knowledge, comfort—an unfathom'd store ?
Pathetic exhortation ; and t’ address

How oft, when Paul has serv'd us with a text,
The skittish fancy with facetious tales,

Has Epictetus, Plato, Tully, preach'd ! When sent with God's commission to the heart! Men that, if now alive, would sit content So did not Paul. Direct me to a quip

And humble learners of a Savior's worth, Or merry turn in all he ever wrote,

Preach it who might. Such was their love of truth And I consent you take it for your text,

Their thirst of knowledge, and their candor 100! Your only one, till sides and benches fail.

And thus it is--The pastor, either vain
No: he was serious in a serious cause,

By nature, or by flatt'ry made so, taught
And understood too well the weighty terms To gaze at his own splendor, and t' exalt
That he had ta'en in charge. He would not stoop Absurdly, not his office, but himself;
To conquer those by jocular exploits,

Or unenlighten'd, and too proud to learn ;
Whom truth and soberness assail'd in vain. Or vicious, and not therefore apt to teach ;

O Popular Applause! what heart of man Perverting often by the stress of lewd
Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms ? And loose example, whom he should instruct;
The wisest and the best feel urgent need

Exposes, and holds up to broad disgrace,
Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales;

The noblest function, and discredits much

The brightest truths, that man has ever seen You think, perhaps, so delicate his dress,
For ghostly counsel ; if it either fall

His daily fare as delicate. Alas!
Below the exigence, or be not back'd

He picks clean teeth, and, busy as he seems
With show of love, at least with hopeful proof With an old tavern quill, is hungry yet!
Of some sincerity on the giver's part;

The rout is Folly's circle, which she draws
Or be dishonor'd in th' exterior form

With magic wand. So potent is the spell,
And mode of its conveyance, by such tricks That none, decoy'd into that fatal ring,
As move derision, or by foppish airs

Unless by Heaven's peculiar grace, escape.
And histrionic mumm’ry, that let down

There we grow early grey, but never wise ; The pulpit to the level of the stage;

There form connexions, but acquire no friend; Drops from the lips a disregarded thing.

Solicit plensure, hopeless of success; The weak perhaps are mov’d, but are not taught, Waste youth in occupations only fit While prejudice in men of stronger minds For second childhood, and devote old age Takes deeper root, confirm'd by what they see. To sports, which only childhood could excuse. A relaxation of religion's hold

There they are happiest, who dissemble best Upon the roving and untutor’d heart

Their weariness; and they the most polite, Soon follows, and, the curb of conscience snapp'd, Who squander time and treasure with a smile, The laity run wild.—But do they now?

Though at their own destruction. She that asks Note their extravagance, and be convinc'd. Her dear five hundred friends, contemns them all, As nations, ignorant of God, contrive

And hates their coming. They (what can they less A wooden one ; so we, no longer taught

Make just reprisals; and with cringe and shrug, By monitors, that mother-church supplies,

And bow obsequious, hide their hate of her. Now make our own. Posterity will ask

All catch the frenzy, downward from her Grace, (If e'er posterity see verse of mine)

Whose flambeaux flash against the morning skies, Some fifty or a hundred lustrums hence,

And gild our chamber-ceiling as they pass, What was a monitor in George's days ?

To her, who, frugal only that her thrifi My very gentle reader, yet unborn,

May feed excesses she can ill afford, Of whom I needs must augur better things, Is hackney'd home unlackey'd ; who, in haste Since Heav'n would sure grow weary of a world Alighting, turns the key in her own door, Productive only of a race like ours,

And, at the watchman's lantern borrowing light, A monitor is wood-plank shaven thin.

Finds a cold bed her only comfort left. We wear it at our backs. There, closely brac'd Wives beggar husbands, husbands starve their wives, And neatly filted, it compresses hard

On Fortune's velvet altar off'ring up The prominent and most unsightly bones, Their last poor pittance-Fortune, most severe And binds the shoulders flat. We prove its use Of goddesses yet known, and costlier far Sov'reign and most effectual to secure

Than all that held their routs in Juno's Heav'n.A form, not now gymnastic as of yore,

So fare we in this prison-house the World; From rickets and distortion, else our lot.

And 'lis a fearful spectacle to see But thus admonish'd, we can walk erect

So many maniacs dancing in their chains. One proof at least of manhood! while the friend They gaze upon the links that hold them fast, Sticks close, a Mentor worthy of his charge. With eyes of anguish execrate their lot, Our habits, costlier than Lucullus wore,

Then shake them in despair, and dance again! And by caprice as multiplied as bis,

Now basket up the family of plagues, Just please us while the fashion is at full,

That wasle our vitals; peculation, sale But change with ev'ry moon. The sycophant, Of honor, perjury, corruption, frauds Who waits to dress us, arbitrates their date; By forgery, by subterfuge of law, Surveys his fair reversion with keen eye;

By tricks and lies as num'rous and as keen Finds one ill-made, another obsolete;

As the necessities their authors feel ; This fits not nicely, that is ill-conceiv'd;

Then cast them, closely bundled, ev'ry brat And, making prize of all that he condemns, At the right door. Profusion is the sire. With our expenditure defrays his own.

Profusion, unrestrain'd with all that's base Variety's the very spice of life,

In character, has litter'd all the land, That gives it all its flavor. We have run

And bred, within the memn'ry of no few, Through ev'ry change, that Fancy, at the loom A priesthood, such as Baal's was of old, Exhausted, has had genius to supply ;

A people, such as never was till now. And, studious of mutation still, discard

It is a hungry vice : it eats up all A real elegance, a little us'd,

That gives society its beauty, strength, For monstrous novelty and strange disguise. Convenience, and security, and use : We sacrifice to dress, till household joys

Makes men mere vermin, worthy to be trapp'd And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, And gibbeted, as fast as catchpole claws And keeps our larder lean; puts out our fires; Can seize the slipp'ry prey: unties the knot And introduces hunger, frost, and woe,

Of union, and converts the sacred band Where peace and hospitality might reign.

That holds mankind together, 10 a scourge. What man that lives, and that knows how to live, Profusion, deluging a state with lusts Would fail t'exhibit at the public shows

Of grossest nature and of worst effects, A form as spendid as the proudest there,

Prepares it for its ruin : hardens, blinds, Though appetite raise outcries at the cost ? And warps, the consciences of public men, A man o' the town dines late, but soon enough, Till they can laugh at Virtue, mock the fools With reasonable forecast and dispatch,

That trust them; and in th' end disclose a face T' insure a side-box station at half-price.

That would have shock'd Credulity herself,

Unmask'd, vouchsafing this their sole excuse Add to such erudition, thus acquir’d,
Since all alike are selfish, why not they?

Where science and where virtue are profess’d?
This does Profusion, and th' accursed cause They may confirm his habits, rivet fast
Of such deep mischief has itself a cause. His folly; but to spoil him, is a task
In colleges and halls in ancient days,

That bids defiance to th' united pow'rs When learning, virtue, piety, and truth,

Of fashion, dissipation, taverns, stews. Were precious, and inculcated with care,

Now blame we most the nurslings or the nurse? There dwelt a sage callid Discipline. His head, The children crook'd, and twisted, and deformid, Not yet by Time completely silver'd o'er, Through want of care ; or her, whose winking eye Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth, And slumb'ring oscitancy mars the brood ? But strong for service still, and unimpair’d. The nurse, no doubt. Regardless of her charge, His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile She needs herself correction; needs to learn, Play'd on his lips; and in his speech was heard That it is dang'rous sporting with the world, Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love.

With things so sacred as a nation's trust, The occupation dearest to his heart

The nurture of her youth, her dearest pledge. Was to encourage goodness. He would stroke All are not such. I had a brother onceThe head of modest and ingenuous worth, Peace to the mem'ry of a man of worih, That blush'd at its own praise ; and press the youth A man of letters, and of manners too! Close to his side, that pleas'd him. Learning grew Of manners sweet as Virtue always wears, Beneath his care a thriving vig'rous plant; When gay Good-nature dresses her in smiles. The mind was well-inforın'd, the passions held He grac'd a college,* in which order yet Subordinate, and diligence was choice.

Was sacred ; and was honor'd, lov'd, and wept, If e'er it chanc'd, as sometimes chance it must, By more than one, themselves conspicuous there. That one among so many overleap'd

Some minds are temper'd happily, and mix’d The limits of control, his gentle eye

With such ingredients of good sense, and taste Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke :

Of what is excellent in man, they thirst His frown was full of terror, and his voice With such a zeal to be what they approve, Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe, That no restraints can circumscribe them more As left him not, till penitence had won

Than they themselves by choice, for wisdom's sake. Lost favor back again, and clos'd the breach. Nor can example hurt them: what they see But discipline, a faithful servant long,

Of vice in others but enhancing more Declin'd at length into the vale of years :

The charms of virtue in their just esteem. A palsy struck his arm; his sparkling eye If such escape contagion, and emerge Was quench'd in rheums of age; his voice, unstrung, Pure from so foul a pool to shine abroad, Grew tremulous, and mov'd derision more

And give the world their talents and themselves, Than rev'rence in perverse rebellious youth. Small thanks to those, whose negligence or sloth So colleges and halls neglected much

Expos’d their inexperience to the snare, Their good old friend ; and Discipline at length, And left them to an undirected choice. O'erlook'd and unemploy'd, fell sick and died. See then the quiver broken and decay'd, Then Study languish'd, Emulation slept,

In which are kept our arrows! Rusting there And Virtue fled. The schools became a scene In wild disorder, and unfit for use, Of solemn farce, where Ignorance in stilts, What wonder, if, discharg’d into the world, His cap well lin'd with logic not his own, They shame their shooters with a random flight, With parrot tongue perform’d the scholar's part, Their points obtuse, and feathers drunk with wine! Proceeding soon a graduated dunce.

Well may the church wage unsuccessful war, Then Compromise had place, and Scrutiny With such artill’ry arm’d. Vice parries wide Became stone blind ; Precedence went in truck, Th' undreaded volley with a sword of straw, And he was competent whose purse was so. And stands an impudent and fearless mark. A dissolution of all bonds ensued ;

Have we not track'd the felon home, and found The curbs invented for the mulish mouth

His birth-place and his dam ? The country mourns, Of headstrong youth were broken; bars and bolts Mourns because ev'ry plague, that can infest Grew rusty hy disuse ; and massy gates

Society, and that saps and worms the base Forgot their oflice, op'ning with a touch ;

Of th' edifice, that policy has rais'd, Till gowns at length are found mere masquerade; Swarms in all quarters : meets the eye, the ear, The tasseld cap and the spruce band a jest, And suffocates the breath at ev'ry turn. A mock'ry of the world! What need of these Profusion breeds them; and the cause itself For gamesters, jockeys, brothellers impure, Of that calamitous mischief has been found: Spendthrisis, and booled sportsmen, oft'ner seen Found too where most offensive, in the skirts With belted waist and pointers at their heels, of the rob'd pedagogue! Else let th' arraign'd Than in the bounds of duty ? What was learn'd, Stand up unconcious, and refute the charge. If aught was learn'd in childhood, is forgot; So when the Jewish leader stretch'd his arm, And such expense, as pinches parents blue,

And wav'd his rod divine, a race obscene, And mortifies the lib'ral hand of love,

Spawn'd in the muddy beds of Nile, came forth, Is squander'd in pursuit of idle sports

Polluting Egypt: gardens, fields, and plains, And vicious pleasures; buys the boy a name, Were cover'd with the pest; the streets were fillid; That sits a stigma on his father's house,

The croaking nuisance lurk'd in every nook ; And cleaves through life inseparably close Nor palaces, nor even chambers, 'scap'd; To him that wears it. What can after-games And the land stank—50 num'rous was the fry. of riper joys, and commerce with the world, The lewd vain world, that must receive him soon,

* Bene't College, Cambridge.


Thou art the nurse of Virtue, in thine arms
Book III

She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,

Heaven-born, and destin'd to the skies again.

Thou art not known where Pleasure is ador'd,

That reeling goddess with the zoneless waist

And wand'ring eyes, still leaning on the arm Self-recollection and reproof. Address to do- of Novelty, her fickle, frail support ;

mestic happiness. Some account of myself. For thou art meek and constant, hating change, The vanity of many of their pursuits, who are And finding in the calm of truth-tried love reputed wise.

Justification of my censires. Joys, that her stormy raptures never yield. Divine illumination necessary to the most expert Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we made philosopher. The question, What is truth? an- Of honor, dignity, and fair renown! swered by other questions. Domestic happiness Till prostitution elbows us aside addressed again. Few lovers of the country. In all our crowded streets; and senates seem My tame hare. Occupations of a retired gen-Conven'd for purposes of empire less, tleman in his garden. Pruning. Framing. Than to release th' adult'ress from her bond. Green-house. Sowing of flower-seeds. The Th’adult'ress! what a theme for angry verse! country preferable to the town even in the win- What provocation to th' indignant heart, ter. Reasons why it is deserted at that sen- That feels for injur'd love! but I disdain

Ruinous effects of gaming, and of expen- The nauseous task, to paint her as she is, sive improvement. Book , concludes with an Cruel, abandon’d, glorying in her shame! apostrophe to the metropolis.

No :-let her pass, and charioted along

In guilty splendor, shake the public ways; As one, who long in thickets and in brakes The frequency, of crimes has wash'd them white, Entangled winds now this way and now that And verse of mine shall never brand the wretch, His devious course uncertain, seeking home; Whom matrons now of character unsmirch'd Or, having long in miry ways been foild

And chaste themselves, are not asham'd to own. And sore discomfited, from slough to slough Virtue and vice had bound'ries in old time, Plunging and half-despairing of escape;

Not to be pass'd: and she, that had renounc'd If chance at length he find a green-sward smooth Her sex's honor, was renounc'd herself And faithful to the fuot, his spirits rise,

By all that priz'd it; not for prudery's sake, He cherups brisk his ear-erecting steed,

But dignity's, resentful of the wrong. And winds his way with pleasure and with ease; 'Twas hard perhaps on here and there a waif, So I, designing other themes, and call'd

Desirous to return, and not receiv'd : T'' adorn the Sofa with eulogium due,

But was a wholesome rigor in the main, To tell its slumbers, and to paint its dreams, And taught th' unblemish'd to preserve with care Have rambled wide. In country, city, seat That purity, whose loss was loss of all. Of academic fame (howe'er deserv'd),

Men too were nice in honor in those days, Long held, and scarcely disengag'd at last. And judg’d offenders well. Then he that sharp'd. But now with pleasant pace a cleanlier road And pocketed a prize by fraud obtain'd, I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,

Was mark'd and shunn'd as odious. He that sold Courageous, and refresh'd for future toil,

His country, or was slack when she requir'd If toil await me, or if dangers new.

His ev'ry nerve in action and at stretch, Since pulpits fail, and sounding-boards reflect Paid with the blood, that he had basely spard, Most part an empty ineffectual sound,

The price of his default. But now-yes, now
What chance that I, to fame so little known, We are become so candid and so fair,
Nor conversant with men or manners much, So lib'ral in construction, and so rich
Should speak to purpose, or with better hope In Christian charity, (good-natur'd age )
Crack the satiric thong? 'Twere wiser far That they are safe, sinners of either sex,
For me, enamour'd of sequester'd scenes, Transgress what laws they may. Well-dress'd, well.
And charm'd with rural beauty, to repose,

Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or vine, Well-equipag’d, is ticket good enough,
My languid limbs, when summer sears the plains ; To pass us readily through ev'ry door.
Or, when rough winter rages, on the soft

Hypocrisy, detest her as we may,
And shelter'd Sofa, while the nitrous air

(And no man's hatred ever wrong'd her yet.) Feeds a blue flame, and makes a cheerful hearth ; May claim this merit still—that she admits There, undisturb'd by folly, and appriz'd

The worth of what she mimics with such care, How great the danger of disturbing her,

And thus gives virtue indirect applause ; To muse in silence, or at least confine

But she has burnt her mask not needed here, Remarks that gall so many, to the few

Where vire has such allowance, that her shifts My partners in retreat. Disgust conceal'd

And specious semblances have lost their use. is oft-times proof of wisdom. when the fault

I was a stricken deer, that left the herd Is obstinale, and cure beyond our reach.

Long since. With many an arrow deep infix'd Domestic Happiness, thou only bliss

My panting side was charg‘d, when I withdrew, Of Paradise, that hast surviv'd the fall!

To seek a tranquil death in distant shades. Though few now taste thee unimpair'd and pure, There was I found by one, who had himself Or tasting long enjoy thee! too infirm,

Been hurt by th' archers. In his side he bore, Or too incantious, to preserve thy sweets

And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars.
Inmix'd with drops of bitter, which neglect With gentle force soliciting the darts,
Or iemper shods into thy crystal cup;

He drew them forth, and heald, and bade me live.

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