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FIRST VIEW OF THE WORLD.
Far from those green retreats, that peaceful shade, Those fields through which my early childhood
strayed, Far from the vale beneath whose poplars glide The smooth meanders of still Wever's tide, How pants my soul 'midst Revelry's rude noise, Midst Dissipation's round, for gentler joys, For holy calms that dwell in silent dales, Nursed by soft sounds, and fed by murmuring gales!
And thou, Lorenzo, candid and sincere, Thou whom of Heaven's dear boons I hold most
dear, From whose prized friendship and sweet converse
flow The purest joys my grateful heart can know,
Dost thou not ask, through what gay pleasures bend
Ah me, my friend ! how vain the wish to find
hours We shared together in our native bowers,
When, wandering with light feet the woods among,
Oh ye mistaken! whose too partial sight Views man encompassed but by virtue's light, Who, nursed 'mid groves, and shades, and mur
muring streams, As yet have breathed where nought but beauty
Short was my sojourn in this busy world
hurled ; Truth rent the vail, dispelled the circling shade, And man in all his horrors stood displayed.
Though Pride and Power, vain-glorious and elate, With vaunting tongue their fancied joys relate, Derive from wealth and show a gaudy blaze, And dazzle foolish eyes with gold's false rays, Yet deem those joys but feigned and insincere ; Where shall joy come, if virtue is not there? The humble swain that from the stubborn soil Earns his hard fare by sweat and ceaseless toil, If Virtue's sacred fire within his breast Burns clear and bright, lives then more fully blest Than he whose heart, to Virtue's charms unknown, Builds ail its hopes of bliss on Power alone. But now examine we with nearer eyes Those joys that Pride and Power so highly prize ; Then let us ask how far their taste excels The placid pleasure that with Virtue dwells.
Thee, CLODIUS, to the public bar I call, By thee the cause I plead shall stand or fail : Then come thou forth to public view displayed, Come forth in colours all thine own arrayed ;