So life glides smoothly and by stealth away, More golden than that age of fabled gold Renown'd in ancient song; not vex'd with care Or stain'd with guilt, beneficent, approv'd Of God and man, and peaceful in its end. So glide my life away! and so at last, My share of duties decently fulfill'd, May some disease, not tardy to perform Its destin'd office, yet with gentle stroke, Dismiss me, weary, to a safe retreat Beneath the turf that I have often trod.
It shall not grieve me, then, that once, when call'd To dress a Sofa with the flow'rs of verse,
I play'd awhile, obedient to the fair,
With that light task; but soon, to please her more, Whom flow'rs alone I knew would little please, Let fall th' unfinish'd wreath, and rov'd for fruit; Rov'd far, and gather'd much: some harsh, 'tis true, Pick'd from the thorns and briers of reproof, But wholesome, well digested; grateful some To palates that can taste immortal truth; Insipid else, and sure to be despis'd. But all is in his hand whose praise I seek. In vain the poet sings, and the world hears, If he regard not, though divine the theme. 'Tis not in artful measures, in the chime And idle tinkling of a minstrel's lyre,
To charm his ear, whose eye is on the heart; Whose frown can disappoint the proudest strain, Whose approbation-PROSPER EVEN MINE,
Κεφαλαιον δη παιδειας ορθη τροφη.
Αρχη πολιτείας απασης, νέων τροφοδο
Rev. William Cawthorn Unwin,
RECTOR OF STOCK IN ESSEX,
THE TUTOR OF HIS TWO SONS,
RECOMMENDING PRIVATE TUITION
BY HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND,
IT is not from his form, in which we trace Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace; That man, the master of this globe, derives His right of empire over all that lives. That form, indeed, th' associate of a mind, Vast in its pow'rs, etherial in its kind, That form, the labour of almighty skill, Fram'd for the service of a free-born will, Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control, But borrows all its grandeur from the soul. Here is the state, the splendour, and the throne, An intellectual kingdom, all her own. For her the mem'ry fills her ample page With truths pour'd down from ev'ry distant age; For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more: Though laden, not incumber'd with her spoil; Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil; When copiously supplied, then most enlarg'd; Still to be fed, and not to be surcharg❜d. For her the fancy, roving unconfin'd, The present muse of ev'ry pensive mind,
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