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ach Eden, sprung from Cumbrian mountains; To match the sprightly genius of champaign. such

[stream Thrice happy days ! in rural bus’nels patt: che Eik, o'erhung with woods; and such the Bleft winter-nights ! when, as the genial fire in whose Arcadian banks I first drew air, Checrs the wide hall, his cordial fainily iddal ; till now, except in Doric lays

With foft domestic arts the hours beguile, Cun'd to her murmurs by her love-lick swains,'| And pleasing talk that starts no tim'rous fame, Inknown in fong : Tho' not a purer stream, With witless avantonnels to hunt it down : Chro' meads more fiow'ry or more romantic Or thro' the Fairy-land of tale or long groves,

[food! Delighted wander, in fictitious fates Colls e’ward the western main. Hail, sacred Engag'd, and all that strikes humanity: Jay ftill thy hospitable livains be blest Till, loft in fable, they the stealing hour n rural innocence ; thy mountains still Of timely rest forget. Sometimes, at eve, Teem with the fleecy race; thy tuneful woods His neighbours litt the latch, and bless unbid for ever flourish ; and thy vales look gay His feltal roof; while, o'er the light repait l'ith painted meadows and the golden grain ! And sprightly cups, they mix in focial joy; Oft with thy blooming sons when life was new, And, thro’ the maze of conversation, trace sportive and petulant, and charm'd with toys, Whate'cr amuses or improves the mind. in thy tranfparent eddies have I lav’d:

Sometiines at eve (for I delight to tatte Dfi trac'd with patient steps thy fairy banks The native zest and flavour of the fruit With the well-imitated tv, to hook

Where sente grows wild, and takes of no manure) The cager trout, and with the flender line The dccent, honest, cheerful husbandman And yielding rod folicit to the shore

Should drown his labours in iny friendly bowl ; The struggling panting prey; while vernal clouds | And at my table find himself at home. And tcpid gales obfcur'd the ruffled pool, Whate'er you ftudy, in whate'er you sweat, And trom the dceps call’dforth the wantonfiarms. Indulge your taste. Some love the maniy foils;

Form'd on the Samian school, or those of Ind, The tennis fome, and some the graceful dance; There are who think thete pastimes fcarce hu- Others, more hardy, range the purple heath Yet in my mind (and not relentlets I) [mane; Or naked stubble; where, from field to field His life is pure that wears no fouler stains. The founding coveys urge their lab’ring flight; But if thro' genuine tenderness of heart, Eager, amid the rising cloud, to pour Or secret wait of rclith for the gaine,

The gun's uncrring thunder : And there are You thun the glories of the chace, nor care Whom still the meed of the green archer charins. To haunt the peopled streain; the garden yields He chufes best, whose labour entertains A soft amusement, a humane delight.

His vacant fancy most: The toil you hate To raise th'infipid nature of the ground, Fatigues you soon, and scarce improvesyour limbs, Or tame its savage genius to the grace

As beauty still has blemish, and the mind Of careleis sweet rusticity, that scems

The most accomplish'd its imperfect fide, The ainiable result of happy chance,

Few bodies are there of that happy mould Is to create, and gives a godlike joy,

But fome one part is weaker than the rest : Which ev'ry year improves. Nor thou disdain The legs, perhaps, or arms refute their load, To check the lawlets riot of the trees,

Or the chet labours. These alliduously, To plant the grove, or turn the barren mould. But gently in their proper arts employ'd,

happy he whom when his years decline Acquire a vigour and springy activity (His fortune and his fame by worthy means To which they were not born. But weaker parts Attain'd, and equal to his mod'rate mind; Abhor fatigue and violent discipline. His life approv'd by all the wise and good, Begin with gentle toils ; and as your nerves E’en envy'd by the vain) the peaceful groves Grow firm, to hardier by just steps aspire, Of Epicurus from this stormy world,

The prudent, ev’n in ev'ry mod’rate walk, Receive to rest; of all ungrateful cares

At firtt but faunter, and, by flow degrees, Abfolv'd, and faced from the fel6th crowd. Incrcase their pace. This doctrine of the wise Happiett of men! if the same foil invites Well knows the master of the flying steed. A cholen few companions of his youth; First trom the goal the manag'd courfers play Once fellow-rakes, perhaps now rural friends; On bended reins; as yet the skilful routh With whom in eaty commerce to purlue Reprets their foamy pride ; but ev'ry breath Nature's free channs, and vie for fylvan fame: The race grows warmer, and th: tempest fivells, A fair ambition ; void of strife or guile, Till all the fiery mettle has its way, Or jealousy, or pain to be outdone.

And the thick thunder huivies o'er the plain. Iho plans th’inchanted garden, who dircēts When all at once, from indolence to toil, The visto best, and best conducts the stream; You Spring, the fibres by the bany fhock Those groves the fastest thicken and ascend; Aretir'd and crack'd, before their un£tuous coats, Whom first the welcome springfalutes; wholhews Compress’d, can pour this lubricating balm. The earliest bloom, the fiveetest, proudettcharms Behdes, collected in the pasive veins, Of Flora: who best gives Pomona's juice | The purple mass a sudden torrent rolls, * This word is much uscd ky some of the old English pocts, and significs Reward or Prize.


O'crpow'rs the heart, and deluges the lungs The baser Kuids in a constant stream
With dang'rous inundation : Ort the fource Escape, and viewless melt into the winds.
Of fatal woes; a cough that foams with blood, While this eternal, this moft copious, waste
Asthma, and feller Peripneumony t,

Of blood degen’rate into vapid brine,
Or the flow mimings of the hectic fire.

Maintains its wonted measure, all the pow'rs Th’athletic fool, to whom w hat Heav'ndeny'd Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life Of foul is well compensated in limbs,

With care and plcafure move : but this restrain'd Oft from his rage, or brainlcts frolic, feels Or inure or less, to more or less you feel His vegetation and brute force decay.

The functions labour: from this fatal source The men of better clay and finer mould, What woes descend is never to be lung. Know nature, feel the human dignity,

To take their numbers were to count the sands And fcorn to vic with oxen or with apes. That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Lybian air; Pursu'd prolixly, ev'n the gentlest toil

Or waves that, when the bluft'ring North em, Is waite of health : repote, by imall fatigue,

broils Is earn'd; and (where your habit is not prone The Baltic, thunder on the German shore. To thaw) by the first moisture of the brows Subject not then by fort cnoilient arts The fine and fubtle spirits cost too niuch This grand expence on which your fates depend, To be profus'd, too much the rolcid balın. To ev'ry caprice of the sky; nor thwart But when the hard vanetics of life

The guins of your clime : For from the blood You toil to learn, or try the duity chace, Leafi fickle rite the recremental ftcams, Or the warm derds of some important day; And least obnoxious to the ftyptic air, (pores, Hot from the field, indulge not yet your limbs

Which breathe thro' ftraiter and more callous In with'd repote, nor court the tanning gale, The temper'd Scythian hence, half-naked treads Nor taste the fpring. O! by the facred was His boundicis (nows, nor rucs th'ioclement haQt widows, orphans, mothers, filters, files, And hence our painted ancestors defy'd (ven; Forbear! No other peftilence has driven The Eait; nor curs’d, like us, their fickle sky. Such myriads o'er thirremeable deep.

The body, moulded by the clime, endures Why this so fatal, thc tagacious Müte

Th'cquator heats or Hyperborean frost: Thro' nature's cunning labyrinthis could trace : Excepł, by habits foreign to its turn, But there are fecrets which who knows not now, : Unwile you counteract its forming pow'r. Moft, ere he reach rhein, climb the heapy Alps Rude at the first, the winter blocks you lefs Of feience, and devote itven years to toil. By long acquaintance : Study then your sky, Belides, I would not ftun your patient cars Form to its manners your obtequious frame, With what it litule boots you to attain.

And learn to luter what you cannot thun. He knows enough, the mariner, who knows Againīt the rigours of a damp cold heav'n Where Jurk the ihelves, and where the whirl. To fortify their bodies, fomnc frequent pools bosi,

The gelid cistern ; and, where nought forbids, What figus portend the storin: Tofubtler minds 1 praise their dauntless heart: A frame to ftcel'd He leaves to scan, from what mysterious cause Dreads not the cough, not those ungenial blatts Charybdis rages in th’lonian wave;

That breathe the Terrian or fell Rheumatism ; Whence those impetuous currents in the main), The nerves 1o temper'd never quit their tone ; Which ncither oar nor fail can ftem; and why No chronic languors haunt such hardy breasts. Tlie roughning deep expects the storm as lure But all things have their bounds : and he whe As red Orion mounts the throuded heav'n.

makes In ancienttimes, when Rome with Athens vy'a By daily ute the kindest regimen For polith'd luxury and ufcful arts;

Eisential to his health, Mhould never mix All hot and recking from th’Olympic ftrife, With human kind, nor art nor trade pursue. And warm Palettra, in the tepid båth

He not the fafe viciffitudes of life Th'athlcric youth relax'd their weary'd limbs, Without some shock endures; ill fitted hp Sofe oils bedew'd them, with the grateful pow'rs To want the known, or bear unusual things. Of nard and callia fraught, to fooihe and heal Belides, the pow'rful remedies of pain The cherith'd nerves. Our les voluptuous (Since pain, in spite of all our care, will come) cline

Should never with your prosp'rous days of health Not much invites us to such arts as these. Grow too familiar : for, by frequent use, 'Tis not for those whom gelid skies embrace, The firongest medicines lose their healing pow'r; And chilling fogs; whote perspiration feels And even the purest poisons theirs to kill. Such frequent bars froir Eurus and the North; Let those who froin the frozen Arélos rcach Tis not for those to cultivate the skin

Parch'd Mauritania or the sultry Welt, Tow foft, or teach the recremental fuine Or the wide foud thro' rich Indoftan rollid, Too fast to crowd thro' such precarious ways ; Plunge thrice a day, and in the tepid wave For thro' the small arterial inouthis, that pierce Untwist their Itubborn porcs ; that full and free In endicis millions the closc-iroven skin, Th'evaporation thro' the foften d skin

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ERI Book II. DIDACTIC, DESCRIPTIVE, &c. 397 - May bear proportion to the swelling blood. Melts all the night in strains of a'rous woe..

So ihall they 'scape the fever's rapid flames; The shades descend, and midnight o'ertheworld So fcel untainted the hot breath of hell.

Expands her sable wings. Gicat Nature droops the man of no complaint demands Thro' all her works. Now happy the whole coil The warm ablution, just enough to clear Has o'er his languid pow'rless limbs diffus'd The Huices of the skin, enough to kcep A pleasing lallitude : He not in vain 'The body facies from indecent foil.

Invokes the gentle Dcity of dreams. Still to be pure, ev’n did it not conduce

His powers the most voluptuously dissolve
(its much it does) to health, were greatly worth In soft repofe : On him the balmy deus
Your daily pains. 'Tis this adorns the rich ; Of sleep with double nutriment defcend.
The want of this is Poverty's worst woe ; But would you sweetly waste the blank of night
With this external virtue Age maintains In deep oblivion; or on Fancy's wings
A decent grace ; without it, Youth and charms Visit the paradite of happy dreams,
Arc loathiome. This the Venal Graces know; And waken cheerful as the lively morn,
So doubtless do your wives; for marry'd fires, Oppress not Nature sinking down to rest
As well as lovers, still pretend to taste; With feats too late, too fólid, or too full:
Nor is it less (all prudent wives can tell) But be the first conco&lion half-maturd
To lose a husband's than a lover's heart.

Erc you to mighty indolence resign
But now the hours and seasons when to toil, Your patlive faculties. He from the toils
From foreign themes recal my wand'ring song, And trouble of the day to heavier toil

Frocks Some labour fafting, or but flightly fed, Retires, whom trembling from the tow'r that

To lull the grinding stomach's hungry rage. Amid the clouds, or Calpe's hideous height,
Where nature feeds too corpulent a frame The busy dæmons hurl: or in the main
'Tis wisely donc, for while the thirsty veins, O'erwhelm; or bury struggling under ground.
Impatient of lean penury, devour

Not all a monarch's luxury the woes
The trealur'd oil, then is the happiest time Can counterpoise of that most wretched mani,
To shake the lazy balsam from its cells.

Whose nights are shaken with the frantic fts
Now while the stomach from the full repast Of wild Orestes; whose delirious brain,
Sublides, but ere returning hunger gnaws, Sung by the Furics, works with poison’dthought:
Ye leaner habits, give an hour to toil;

While pale and monstrous panting locks thesoul;
And ye whom no luxuriancy of growth And mangled consciousness bemoans itself
Oppresses yet, or threatens to oppress,

For ever torn; and chaos floating round.
But from the recent meal no labours please, What dreams presage, what dangers these or those
Of limbs or mind. For now the cordial pow'rs Portend to fanity, tho' prudent Icers
Çlaim all the wand'ring spirits to a work Reveal'd of old, and men of deathlefs fame,
Of strong and fubtie toil, and great event : We would not to the superstitious enind
A work of time: and you may rue the day Suggest new throbs, new vanities of fear :
You hurried, with untimely exercile,

'Tis ours to teach you from the peaceful night A half-concocted chyle into the blood.

To banish omers and all reftlefs woes.
The body, overcharg'd with unctuous phlegm, In study some protract the fileirt hours,
Much toil demands: The lcan elastic less. Which others confecrate to mirth and wine;
While winter chills the blood and binds the veins, And licep till noon, and hardly live till night.
No labours are too hard: by those you 'Icape But surely this redeems not from the shades
The No:v discases of the torpid ycar;

One hour of life. Nor does it nought avail
Endiets to name ; to onc of which alonc, What scafod you to drowsy Morpheus give
To that which tears the nerves, the toil of llaves Of th’ever-varying circle of the day:
Is pleasure : Oh! from such inhuman pains Or whether, thro' the tedious winier gloom,
May all be free who merit not the whec!; You tempt the midnight or the morning damps.
But from the burning Lion, when the sun The body, fresh and vigorous froin repofc,
Pours down his sultry wrath ; now while the Defics the early fogs : but, by the coils,
Too much already maddens in the veins, [blood Of wakeful day exhausted and unstrung,
And all the finer fluids thro' the skin

Weakly refiits the night's unu holefome breath,
Explore their fight; mc, near the cool cascade The grand discharge, th'effufion of the skin,
Reclin'd, or faunt'ring in the lofty grove, Slowly impair'd, the languid maladies
No needless Night occasion fhould engage Creep on, and thro' the lick’ning functions teal
To pant and sweat bencath the fiery noon. So, when the chilling East invades the spring,
Now the fred morn alone and mellow


The delicare Narcillus pines away
To shady walks and active rural sports In hectic languor; and a flow disease
Invite. “But while the chilling dews defcend, Taints all the fainiiy of Howrs, condemn'd
May nothing tempe you to the cold embrace To cruel heav'ıys. But whay already prone
Of humid skies ; tho' tis no vulgar joy

To fade, should beauty cherish its own bane !
To trace the horrors of the folcinn wood O fame! O pity! nipe with paic Quadrille,
While the soft ev'nıig faddens into night: And inidnight carcs, the bioom of Albion dics !
Tho' the sweet Poct of thic vernal grovet By toil fubdu'd, the Warrior and the Hind

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Sleep fast and deep: their active functions foon The rapid fates admit of no delay,
With gen'rous ftreams the subtle tubes fupply; While wilful you, and fatally secure,
And soon the tonic irritable nerves

Expect to-morrow's more auspicious fun,
Feel the fresh impulse, and awake the soul. The growing pett, whose infancy was weak
The fons of indolence with long repose And ealy vanquishi’d, with triumphant sway
Grow torpid ; and with flowest Lethe drunk, O'erposv’rs your life. For want of timely care,
Feebly and ling'ring return to life,

Millions have dy'd of medicable wounds. Blunt ev'ry tense, and pow'rless ev'ry limb. Ah! in what perils is vain life engag'd! Ye prone to fleep (tv hom Sleeping mult annoys) What flight neglects, what trivial faults destroy On the hard matrass or elaftic couch [iloth; The hardieft frame! Of indolence, of toil, Extend your limbs, and wean yourselves from We die; of want, of superfluity : Nor grudge the lean projector, of dry brain The all-surrounding heav'n, the vital air, And Ipringy nerves, the blandithments of down: Is big with death. And, tho' the putrid South Nor envy while the buried Bacchanal

Be thut; tho' no convulsive agony Exhales his furfeit in prolixer dreams.

Shake, from the deep foundation of the world, He without riot, in the balmy feast

Th’imprison'd plagues, a fecret venom, oft Of life, the wants of nature las fupply'd Corrupts the air, the water, and the land. Who riles cool, ferene, and full of loul.

What livid deaths has sad Byzantium feen! But pliant nature more or less demands, How oft has Cairo, with a mother's woe, As custom forms her; and all sudden change Wept o'er her slaughter'd sons and lonely forcets! She hates of habit, ev'n from bad to good. E'en Albion, girt with less malignant skics, If faults in life, or new emergencies,

Albion the poison of the gods has drank, From habits urge you by long time confirm'd, And felt the sting of monsters all her own. Slow may the change arrive, and stage by stages Ere vet the fell Plantagenets had spent Slow as the shadow o'er the dial inoves; Their ancient rage at Botworth's purple field; Slow as the stealing progrets of the year While, for which evrant England should receive,

Observe the circling vear. How unperceiv'd Her legious in inceltuous murders mix'd, Her seafons change! Behold! by flow degrees, And daily horrors; till the fates were drunk Stern Winter tam'd into a ruder Spring; With kindred blood by kindred hands profus'do The ripen’d Spring a milcier Sumner glow'ss Another plague of more gigantic arın Departing Sumner sheds Pomona's store; Arote, à monster never known before, And aged Autumn brews the Winter-storm. Reai'd from Cocytus its portentous head. Slow as they come, there changes come not void This rapid fury not, like other posts, Of mortal shocks: The cold and torrid reigns, Pursu'd a gradual course, but in a day The two great periods of th'important year, Ruth'd as a storm o'er half th’aftonith'd ille, Are in their firit approaches feldom safe : And strew'd with sudden carcases the land. Funcrcat Autumn all the tickly dread,

First thro the Moulders, or whatever part And the black fates deform the lovely Spring: Was teiz'd the first, a fervid vapour sprung. Howel advis’ıl, who taught our wifer fires With rash combustion thence, thequiv'ring spark Early to borrow Mulcovy's warm (poils, Shot to the heart, and kindled all within : Ere the first frost has touch'd the tender blade; And foon the surface caught the spreading fires. And late resign them, tho' the wanton Spring Thro’ all the yielding pores the melted blood Should deck her chains with all her fifter's rays; Guth'd out in sinoky Tuveats; but nought assuag'd For while the efluence of the skin maintainis The torrid heat within, nor dught reliev'd Its native mea.fure, the pleuretic Spring The fomach's anguilh. With inte!lant toil, Glides harmlels by; and Autumn, fick to death Defperate of eale, impatient of their pain, With fallow Quartans, no contagion breathes. They tofs'd from side to Gide. In vain the stream

I in prophetic numbers could unfold Ran full and clear, they burnt and thirsted fill, The omncns of the vear: what fcafons tcern The restless arteries with rapid blood With what difcales; what the humid South Beat strong and frequent. Thick and pantingly Prepares, and what the Dæmon of the Eati : The breath was fetch'd, and with huge lab'rings B:!t you perhaps refuse the tedious fong. Ac latt a heavy pain opprefs'd the head, [heav'd: Bchides ülistever plagues, in heat, or cold, A wild dcliriu!n came; their weeping friends Ordrought, the moisture dwell, they hurt not you, Were strangers now, and this no home of theirs. Skill'd to correct the vices of the tky,

Harrats'd with toil on toil, the sinking pow'rs And taught already how to each extreme Lay prostrate and o’erthrown ; a pond'rousleep To bend your life. But thould the public bane Wrapt all the senses up: They flept and dy'd. Inteet you ; or fome treipass of your own, In fome, a gentle horror crept at first Or flaw of natnre, hint mortality,-

O'er all the limbs; the sluices of the skin Soon as a not unpleasing horror glides

Withheld their moisture, till, by art provok'd, Along the spine, thro' all your torpid limbs ; The Tweats o'erflowd ; but in a clammy tide : Wher first the head throbs, or the stomach feels Now free and copious, now restrain'd and flow; A fickly load, a weary pain the loins,

Of tin&tures various, as the temp'rature BG Celius called: The farcs come rulhing on; Had mix'd the blood; and rank with futid streams:


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As if the pent-up humours by delay

$72. The Art of Preserving Health. ARMSTRONG. Were grown more fell, more putrid, and malign. Here lay their hopes (tho' little hope remain'd) Book IV. THE PASSIONS With full effusion of perpetual sweats To drive the venoin out. And here the fates

THE choice of aliment, the choice of air, Were kind, that long they linger'd not in pain. The use of toil, and all external things, For who surviv'd the sun's diurnal race, Already fung; it now remains to trace Rose from the dreary gates of hell redeem'd: What good,

what evil, from ourselves proceeds, Some the sixth hour opprefs’d, and some the third. And how the subtle principle within

Of many thousands few untainted 'scap'd ; Inspires with health, or mines with strange decay Of those infected, fewer 'scap'd alive;

The passive body. Ye poetic thades, Of those who liv'd, some felt a fecond blow; That know the secrets of the world unfeen, And whom the fecond spar'd a third destroy'd ! Aflift my fong! for, in a doubtful theme Frantic with fear, they fought by flight to thun Engag'd, I wander thro' mysterious ways. The fierce contagion. O'er the mournful land There is, they fay (and I believe there is) Th'infected city pour'd her hurrying swarins : A spark within us of th’immortal fire, Rous’d by the Aamnes that fir’d her feats around, That animates and moulds the grofer frame; Th’infected country rush'd into the town. And when the body sinks, escapes to hcar'n, Some, sad at home, and in the desart some, Its native feat, and mixes with the Gods. Aljur'd the fatal commerce of mankind; Meanwhile this heav'nly particle pervades In vain : where'er they fled the fates pursu'd. The mortal elements; in ev'ry nerve Others, with hopes more specious, cross'd the It thrills with pleasure, or grows mad with pain : main,

And, in its fecret conclave, as it feels To seek protection in far distant skies;

The body's woes and jovs, this ruling pow'r
But none they found. It seem'd the gen’ral air, Wields at its will the dull material world,
From pole to pole, from Atlas to the East, And is the body's hcalth or malady.
Was then at enmity with English blood !

By its own toil the grofs corporeal frame
For, but the race of England, all were safe Fatigues, extenuates, or destroys itself.
In foreign climes; nor did this fury taste Nor less the labours of the mind corrode
The foreign blood which England then contain'd! The folid fabric : for, by fuhtle parts
Where should they fly? The circumambient And viewleis atoms, secret Nature moves

The mighty wheels of this stupendous world.
Involv'd them ftill; and ev'ry breeze was bane. By subtle fsuids, pour'd thro' fubtle tubes,
Where find relief? Thc salutary art

The nat’ral, vital, functions are perform’d.
Was mute; and, startled at the new disease, By these the stubborn aliments are tam'd;
In fearful whispers hopeless omens gave. The toiling heart distributes life and strength;
To Heav'n with suppliant rites they fent their These the itill-crumbling frame rebuild; and these

Are lost in thinking, and diffolve in air.
Heav'ni heard themi not. Of ev'ry hope depriv'd, But 'tis not Thought (for ftill the foul's cm-
Fatigu'd with vain resources, and fubdu'd

With wocs rchflets and enfeebling fear, 'Tis painful thinking that corrodes our clay.
Pallive they sunk beneath the weighty blow, All day the vacant eye without fatigue
Nothing but lamentable founds were heard, Strays o'er the heav'n and earth; but long intent
Nor aught was seen but ghaftly views of death. On microscopic arts, its vig fails.
Infectious horror ran from face to face, Just fo the mind, with various thoughts amus'd,
And pale delpair. 'Twas all the bus'nefs then Nor akes itself, nor gives the body pain ;
To tend the sick, and in their turns to die. But anxious Study, Difcontent, and Care,
In heaps they fell : and oft one bed, they say, Love without hope, and Hate without revenge,
The sick’ning, dying, and the dead contain'd. And Fear, and Jealoufy, fatigue the soul,

Yé guardian Gods, on whom the fates depend Engrofs the fubtle ministers of life,
Of tott'ring Albion! ye eternal fires (pow'rs And spoil the lab'ring funétions of their share.
That lead thro' heav'n the wand'ring year! ye Hence the lcan gloon that Melancholy wears;
That o'er th'encircling cleinents prehde! The Lover's paleness, and the sallow hue
May nothing worse than what this age has feen Of Envy, Jcaloufy, the meagre stare
Arrive! Enough abroad, enough at home Of fore Revenge : the canker'd body hence
Has Albion bled. Here a distemper'd heav'n Betrays cach fretful motion of the mind. [day
Has chinn'd her cities; from thosc lofty cliffs The strony-built pedant, who both night and
That awe proud Gaul, to Thule's wint'ry reign; Fecds on the coartcit fare the schools below,
While in the West, beyond th’Atlantic foam, And crudely fattens at gross Burman's stall,
Her bravest fons, kcen for the fight, have dy'd O'erwhelin'd with phlegin, lies in a dropsy
The death of cowards and of common men:

Sunk void of wounds, and fall’n without renown. Or finks in lethargy before his time.

But from these views the weeping Muses turn, With useful ftudies you, and arts that pléase,
Aud other themes invite my wand'ring song. Employ your imind; amuse but not fatigue.


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