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Fatigue and weaken ev'ry foe
At this the Gard'ner's passion grows; By long attack-lecure, though flow.
From onths and threats he fell to blows. Pague represents his rapid pow'r,
The stubborn brute the blows fuftains, Who thinn'd a nation in an hour.
Assaults his leg, and tears his veins. All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand. Ah, foolish sivain! too late you find, Now expectation huh'd the band,
That fties were for such friends design d. When thus the monarch from the throne : Homeward he limps with painful pace, Merit was ever modest known.
Reflecting thus on paft disgrace: What, no Physician speak his right?
Who cherishes a brutal mate
Shall mourn the folly scon or late.
Tbe Man and be Flea. You Fever, Gout, and all the rest,
WHETHER in carth, in air, or main, Whom wary men as foes detest,
Sure ev'ry thing alive is vain! Forego your claim; no more pretend;
Dots vot the hawk all fouls turvey
As deftin’d only for his prey?
Think men were born for flaves to kings? | The charge on him must jully fall,
When the crab views the pearly strands, Who finds employment for you all.
Or Tagus, bright with golden sands;
Or crawls beside the coral grove, $168. FABLE XLVIII. The Gardener and the Hog. And hears the ocean roll above; A GARD’NER of peculiar taste
Vature is too profuse, says he,
When bord'ring pinks and roses bloom,
And ev'ry garden breathes perfume; He wallow'd underneath the board,
When peaches glow with sunny dyes, Or in his master's chamber ford;
Like Laura's cheek when blushes rise ; Who fondly strok'd him ev'ry day,
When with huge figs the branches bend, And taught him all the puppy's play.
When clusters from the vine depend; Where'er he went, the grunting friend
The fn il looks round on flow'r and tree, Ne'er fali'd his picasure to attend.
And cries, All these were made for me! As on a time the loving pair
What dignity's in human nature ! Walk'd forth to tend the garden's care,
Says Man, the most conceited creature, The Master thus address'd the Swine :
As from a cliff he cast his cyes, My house, my garden, all is thine.
And view'd the sea and arched skies: On turnips feast whenc'cr you please,
The sun waa funk beneath the main ; And riot in my beans and pease;
The moon, and all the starry train, If the potatoe's taste delights,
Hung the vast vault of heaven. The Man Or the red carrot's sweet invites,
His contemplation thus began : Indulge thy morn and ev'ning hours,
When I bchold this glorious show, But let due care regard my flow'rs.
And the wide wat'ry world below,
The scaly people of the main,
The Hog, by chance, one morning roain'd The wing'd inhabitants of air,
And know all these by Heaven design'd
As gifts to pleasure human-kind; Intoxicating fumes arife;
I cannot raise my worth too high;
Of what vast confequence am 1!
; And cools his palate with the spoil.
Know, pride was never made for Man.
'Tis vanity that sivells thy mind. Villain, suspend thy rage! he cried :
What, heaven and earth for thee design'd! Hafte thou, thou most ungrateful fot!
For thee! made only for our need,
That more important Fleas might feed.
$ 170. FADLE L. The Hure ani
Friends, The Hog with stutt'ring speech returns, FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name, Explain, Sir, why your anger burns.
Unless to one you stint the flame. See there, untouch'd, your tulips firewn,
The child, whom many fathers liare, For I devour'd the roots alone,
Haih seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendship; who depend Where Fortune smiles; the wretched he forOn nany, rarely find a friend.
fakes : A Hare, who in a civil way
Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, Complied with ev'ry thing, like Gar, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. Was known by all the bettial train
From lhort (as usual) and disturb'd repore Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain. I wake: How happy they who wake no more! Her care was, never to offendl;
Yet that were vain, if dreams infeft the grave. And ev'ry creature was her friend.
I wake, emerging from a fca of dreams As forth the went, at carly dawn,
Tumultuous; where my wreck’d, desponding To taste the dew-bciprinkled lawn,
thought, Behind the hears the hunter's crics,
From wave to wave of fancy'd misery And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies: At random drove, her helm of reason loft ; She starts, the stops, she pants for breath; Tho' now restor’d, 'tis only change of pain, She hears the near advance of death;
A bitter change ; feverer for severe : She doubles to milcad the hound,
The day too fhort for my distress! and night And measures back her mazy round;
Ev'n in the zenith of her dark domain,
Is fun-fhine, to the colour of my fate.
§ 172. Nigbt.
NIGHT, fable goddess ! from her ebon throne, And owe my safety to a friend.
In rayless majesty, now ftretches forth You know my feet betray my fight;
Her leaden sceptre o'er a numbering world :
Silence, how dcad ! and darkness, how profound! To friendship ev'ry burthen's light.
Nor The Horse replicd, Poor honett Puss!
eye nor lift'ning ear an object finds;
Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse It grieves my heart to see thcc thus :
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause; Be comforted, relicf is ncar; For all your friends are in the rear.
An awful pause, prophetic of her end. She next the stately Bull implor'd,
And let her prophecy be soon fulfillid;
Fate ! drop the curtain ; I can lose no more. And thas replied the mighty lord : Since ev'ry bcast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well,
§ 173. Invocation to Silence and Darkness. I may, without offence, pretend
S'LENCE and Darkness! folemn filters ! twins To take the freedom of a friend.
From ancient Night, who nurse the tender Love calls me hence; a fav'rite cow
thought • Expe&ts me ncar yon barley-mow;
To reason, and on reason build refolve, And when a lady's in the case,
(Thar column of truc majesty in man) You know all other things give place.
Alift me: I will thank you in the grave; To leave you thus might foem unkind; The gravc, your kingdom: There this frame But sec, the Goat is just behind.
shall fall The Goat remark'd her pulse was high, A vi&tim sacred to your dreary fhrine : Her languid head, her heavy cyc;
But what are ye? Thou, who didit put to flight My back, says he, may do you harm;
Primeval Silence, when the morning stars Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm. Exulting, shouted o'er the rising ball; The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd o Thou ! whose word from folid darkness struck His fides a load of wool fustain'd :
That spark, the sun; strike wisdom from my soul, Said he was flow, confils d liis fuars;
My foul which Aics to Thec,her truft,her treasure; For hounds eat Shecp as well as lares. As milers to their gold, while others rest. She now the trotting Calf addrets’d,
Thro' this opaque of nature, and of soul, To save from death a friend difirefsid.
This double night, transmit one pitying ray, Shall I, says he, of tender age,
To lighten, and to chcer : O lead my mind, In this important care engage!
(A mind that fain would wander from its woe) Older and abler pass'd you by :
Lead it thro' various scenes of Life and Death, How strong are those ! how iveak am I! And from each scene, the noblest truths inspire : Should I presume to bear you hence,
Nor less inspire my conduct, than my tong; Thole friends of mine may take offence. Nor let the vial of thy vengeance, pour'd Excuse me, then. You know my heart, On this devoted head, be pour'd in vain. But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adicu !
§ 174. Time. For, see, the hounds are just in view.
HE bell strikes one : We take no note of time, YOUNG’s Nighli-THOUGHTS.
But from its lots. To give it then a tongue, $ 171.
Is wife in man. As if an angel spuke, TRD Nature's tweet ruftorer, limy Sleep! I feel the folemn found. If heard aright, 11., like the world, his teady visit pays It is thc kucil of my departed hours ;
§ 175. Man.
Where are they? with the years beyond the Flood: Unkindled, unconceiv'd; and from an.eye
of tenderness, Ict heavenly pity fall
This is crcation's melancholy vauli, And can eternity belong to me,
The vale funereal, the lad cypress gloom;
All, all on carth is thadow, all beyond
How folid all, where change thall be no inore ! How poor! how rich! how abjc&t! how augalt!
§ 178. Life and Eternity. How complicate! how wonderful is Man! How pafling wonder He who made him fuch!
THIS is the bud of being, the dim dawn;
Life's theatre as yet is lhut, and death, Who centred in our make such strange extremes! Strong death alone can heave the massy bar, From different natures, marvelously mixt, This grois impediment of clay remove, Connection exquisite of distant worlds !
And make us embryos of existence free. Diftinguith'd link in being's endless chain !
From real life, but little more remote
Is he, not yet a candirlate for light,
The future embryo, llumbering in his fire.
Embryos we must be, till we burst the thell, Dim miniature of greatness absolute !
Yon ainbicnt, azure ihell, and spring to life, An heir of glory! a frail child of duft!
The life of gods-- trapport! and of man. Helpless immortal ! infect infinite !
Yetman, fool man! here burics all his thouglies; A worm! a god! I tremble at myself, Inters celestial hopes without one figh: And in myfeit am loft! at home a stranger,
Prisoner of earth, and pent beneath the moon, Thought wanders up and down, surpris’d, aghaft, Here pinions all his withes: wing d by heaven. And wond'ring at her own : how reason reels !
To fly at inainite; and reach it there, O what a miracle to man is man!
Where teraplis gather immortality, Triumphantly distress'd, what joy, what dread ! On life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God. Alternately transported and alarm’d!
What golden joys ambrosial clust'ring glow What can preserve my life ? or what destroy ? An angel's arın can't snatch me from the grave; Where inomentary ages are no more !
In his full beam, and ripen for the Judt, Legions of angels can't confine me there.
Where time, and pain, and chance, and death
expire ! § 176. Dreams.
And is it in the flight of thrcescore years, 'Tis past conjecture; all things rise in proof: To puna eternity from human riwught,
While o'er my limbs Sleep's loft dominion And Imother fouls immortal in the dust? spread,
A soul immortal, spending all her fucs, What tho' my soul phantastic measures trod
Wasting her strengih in strenuous idleness, O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd, Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep
At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Huil'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled Resembles ocean into tempeft wrought, pool;
To waft a feather, or to drown a fly. Or scal'd the cliff; or danc'd on hollow winds,
Where falls this censure: Ito'erwhelms myself. With antic lhapes, wild natives of the brain ?
How was my heart encrusted by the world! Her ceaseless flight, tho'devious, speaks her nature o how self-fetter'd was my grovelling foul! Of subtler ellence than the trodden clod;
How, like a worin, was I wrapt round and round A&tive, aerial, tow'ring, unconfin'd,
In filken thought, which reptile Fancy fpun, Unfetter'd with her grofs companion's fall:
Till darken d Reason lay quite clouded o'er
With soft conceit of encilets comfort here,
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the lkies! For human wcal, heaven husbands all events,
Our waking drcanis are fatal : how I dreamt Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. Of things impollible! (could sleep do more :)
Of joys perpetual in perpetual change !
Of itable pleasures on the toiling Wesc! 9 177. Vanity of Lamentation over the Dead. Eternal lunthine in the ttorins of life! WHY then their loss deplore, that are not loft How richly were my noon-tide trances hung
Why wanders wretched thought their With gorgeous tapeítries of pictur'd joys !
Joy behind joy, in endless perspective!
Till at Death's toil, whotc retticis iron tongue Slumbers, rak'd up in dust, ethereal fire ! Calls daily for his millions at a meal, They live! they greatly live a lifc.on earth Starring, I woke, and found myself undone !
Where now my phrensy's pompous furniture ? In this shape, or in that, has fate entail'd
§ 180. Oppreilion, Want, and Disease. Time and Death.
WAR, fainine, pust, volcano, storm, and fire,
Intestine broils, oppression with her heart YE blest scenes of permanent delight! Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind :
Full, above measure! latting, beyond bound! God's image, disinherited of day, Could you, so rich in rapture, frar an end, Here plung'd in mines, forgets a fun was made; That ghasily thought would drink up all your There beings, deathless as their haughty lord, joy,
Are hamıner'd to the galling oar for life; And quite unparadise the realms of light. And plough the winter's wave, and reap despair; Safe are you lody'd above these rolling spheres, Some, for bard masters, broken under arms, The baleful influence of whose giddy dance In battle lopt away, with half their limbs, Sheds sad vicillitude on all beneath.
Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour fav'd, Here tecms with revolutions every hour; If fo the tyrant, or his minion doom : And rarely for the better ; or the best,
Want and incurable Disease (fell pair!) More mortal than the cominon births of fate : On hopelers multitudes remorsele's reize Each moment has its fickle, emulous
At once ; and make a refuge of the grave: of Time's enormous fcythe, whose ample fiveep How groaning hospitals eject their dead! Strikes empires from the root; each moment What numbers groan for sad admission there! plies
What numbers, once in Fortune's lap ligh-fed, His little weapon in the narrower sphere
Solicit the cold hand of charity!
Not Prudence can dcfend, or Virtue save; Bliss ! fublunary blits! proud words, and vain! Dilcase invades the chastest temperance; Implicit treason to divine decree !
And punishment the guiltless; and alarm A bold invasion of the rights of heaven!
Thro' thickest thades pursues the fond of peace : I clasp'd the phantoins, and I found them air. Man's caution often into danger turns, O had I weigh'd it ere my fond embrace, And, his guard falling, cruthes him to death. What darts of agony had miss'd my heart! Not Happiness itself makes good her name; Death! great proprietor of all ! 'Tis thine Our very wiihes give us not our with ; To tread out empire, and to quench the stars : How distant oft the thing we dote on most, The sun himself by thy permillion shines; Froin that for which we dote, felicity! And, one day, thou thalt pluck him from his The finootheft course of nature has its pains, fphere.
And truest friends, thro' error, wound our reft; Amid such mighty plunder, why exhaust Without misfortune, what calamities! Thy partial quiver on a mark fo mean? And what hostilities, without a foe! Why thy peculiar rancour wreck'd on me? Nor are foes wanting to the best on carth : Insatiate archer! could not one suffice?
But endless is the list of human ills, Thy fhaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was And, fighs might fooner fail, than cause to figh.
[horn. And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filld her § 181. Ríflections on vierving a Map of ibe World. O Cynthia! why to pale? dost thou lament Thy wretched neighbour ? grieve, to see thy A PART how small of the terraqueous globe
Is tenanted by man! the reit a waste, wheel
Rocks, deserts, frozen Icas, and burning fands; Of ceaseless change outwhirl'd in human life?
Wild haunts of inonsters, poisons, stings, and In ev'ry varicd posture, place, and hour,
death : How widow'd every thought of every joy! Thought, busy thought! too busy for my peace, More fad! this earth is a true map of man:
Such is earth's melancholy map! but, far
So bounded are its haughty lord's delights
To woe's wide empire ; where deep troubles toss; Strays, wretched rover! o'er the pleasing past,
Loud forrows howl; envenoin'd paflions bite;
Ravenous calamities our vitals feize,
§ 182. Sympat by. I tremble at the blessings once so dear; WHAT then am I, who forrow for myself ? And ev'ry pleasure pains me to the heart.
In age, in infancy, from other's aid Yet why complain ? or why complain for one! is all our hope; to teach us to be kind. I myurn for millions: 'Tis the common lot; That, Nature's firft, last leffon tu mankind :
The selbfi hcart deserves the pain it feels; We penetrate, we prophesy in vain,
Take then, I world! thy much indebted tcar : § 185. Presumpsion of depending on To-morrow.
BY Nature's law, what To those whose thought can pierce beyond an
may obou ! whate'er thou art, whose heart exults! In human hearts what bolder thought can rise,
There's no prerogative in human hours: tloolist thou I should congratulate thy fate? I know thou wouldst; thy pride demands it from Where is to-inorrow? In another world.
Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn? Lothy pride pardon, what thy nature needs, [me. For numbers this is certain; the reverse The la.tary cenfure of a friend : Ting happy wretch! by blindness art thou bleft; This peradventure, infamous for lies,
Is sure to none; and yet on this perhaps,
As on a rock of adamant we build
Our mountain hopes; 1 pin out eternal schemes,
And, big with life's futurities, expire. Misfortune, like a creditor fevere, bur riles in demand for her delay;
§ 186. Sudden Dearb. She makes a scourge of past prosperity, To iting thee more, and double thy distress. NOT
OT ev’n Philander had bespoke his shroud;
Nor had he cause, a warning was deny'd 183. Tbe Infiability and Infufficiency of Human How many fall as sudden, not as safe! Fovs.
As sudden, tho' for years admonith'd home, LORENZO! Fortune makes her court to thec, of human ills the last extreme beware,
Thy fond heart dances, while the fyren fings. Beware, Lorenzo! a low-fudden death. I would not damp, but to secure thy joys:
How dreadful that deliberate surprise ! Think not that fear is facred to the storm :
Be wise to-day, 'tis madness to defer; Stand on thy guard against the smiles of fate.
Next day the fatal precedent will plead! Is beaven tremendous in its frown! most sure :
Thus on, till wisdom is puth'd out of life; Ard in its favours formidable ton;
Procrastination is the thiet of time, Io farours here are trials, not rewards :
Year after year it ftcals, till all are fled, A call to dury, not discharge from care ;
And to the mercies of a moment leaves Acd should dlarm u3, full as much as woes;
The vast concerns of an eternal scene O'er our fcana'd conduct give a jealous cye ;
If not so frequent, would not this be strange? Aw: Nature's tumult, and chastise her joys,
That 'tis to frequent, this is stranger still.
$187. Man's Prontent/s to poflpone Improvement, Revoked joys, like foes in civil war,
OF man's miraculous mistakes, this bears
Beware what earth calls trappincts; beware All pay themselves the compliment to think
Mine died with thee, Philander! thy latt figh How excellent that life they ne'er will lead!
Pulhes his prudent purpose to refolve;
Rcfolves; and re-refolves : then dies the same. § 184. Man fortjiguted.
$ 188. Man insensible of bis own Mortality. Cioids thick as those on doomsday, drown AND why? because he thinks himself immortal.
Allinen think all men mortal, but themselves;
The present moment terminates our fight;