I'd freely take; and, as I did poffefs,
The bounteous Author of my plenty blefs.
I'd have a little vault, but always stor'd
With the best wines each vintage could afford.
Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse :
By making all our spirits debonair,
Throws off the lees, the fediment of care.
But as the greatest blessing Heaven lends
May be debauch'd, and ferve ignoble ends;
So, but too oft, the grape's refreshing juice
Does many mischievous effects produce.
My house should no fuch rude disorders know,
As from high drinking confequently flow
Nor would I use what was fo kindly given,
To the dishonour of indulgent Heaven.
If any neighbour came, he should be free,
Us'd with refpect, and not uneasy be,
In my retreat, or to himself or me.
What freedom, prudence, and right reason gave,
All men may, with impunity, receive:
But the least swerving from their rule 's too much;
For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.
That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refin'd, fincere, and great;
I'd choofe two friends, whose company would be
A great advance to my felicity:
Well-born, of humours suited to my own,
Discreet, and men as well as books have known:
Brave, generous, witty, and exactly free
From loose behaviour, or formality:
Airy and prudent; merry, but not light;
Quick in difcerning, and in judging right:
Secret they should be, faithful to their trust;
In reafoning cool, ftrong, temperate, and juft:
Obliging, open, without huffing, brave;
Brisk in gay talking, and in fober, grave:
Clofe in difpute, but not tenacious; try'd
By folid reason, and let that decide:
Not prone
to luft, revenge, or envious hate;
Nor bufy medlers with intrigues of state:
Strangers to flander, and fworn foes to fpite;
Not quarrelfome, but ftout enough to fight;
Loyal, and pious, friends to Cæfar; true,
As dying martyrs, to their Maker too.
In their fociety I could not mifs
A permanent, fincere, substantial blifs.
Would bounteous Heaven once more indulge, I'd
(For who would so much fatisfaction lofe,
As witty nymphs, in conversation, give)
Near fome obliging modest fair to live:
For there's that fweetnefs in a female mind,
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find;
That, by a fecret, but a powerful art,
Winds up the spring of life, and does impart
Fresh vital heat to the transported heart.
I'd have her reason all her passion sway:
Easy in company, in private gay :
Coy to a fop, to the deferving free;
Still conftant to herself, and just to me,
A foul fhe fhould have for great actions fit;
Prudence and wisdom to direct her wit:
Courage to look bold danger in the face;
No fear, but only to be proud, or base;
Quick to advise, by an emergence prest,
To give good counsel, or to take the best.
I'd have th' expreffion of her thoughts be fuch,
She might not feem referv'd, nor talk too much:
That shews a want of judgment, and of fense;
More than enough is but impertinence,
Her conduct regular, her mirth refin'd;
Civil to ftrangers, to her neighbours kind:
Averse to vanity, revenge, and pride;
In all the methods of deceit untry'd:
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No cenfure might upon her actions fall:
Then would ev'n envy be compell'd to say,
She goes the least of womankind astray.
To this fair creature I'd sometimes retire;
Her conversation would new joys inspire;
Give life an edge so keen, no furly care
Would venture to affault my foul, or dare,
Near my retreat, to hide one fecret fnare.
But fo divine, so noble a repast
I'd feldom, and with moderation, taste :
For highest cordials all their virtue lose,
By a too frequent and too bold a use;
And what would cheer the spirits in distress,
Ruins our health, when taken to excess.
I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar; Belov'd by all, not vainly popular. Whate'er affiftance I had power to bring, T'oblige my country, or to serve my king, Whene'er they call, I'd readily afford My tongue, my pen, my counsel, or my Law-fuits I'd fhun, with as much studious care, As I would dens where hungry lions are; And rather put up injuries, than be
A plague to him, who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,
To give for my revenge fo dear a rate:
For what do we by all our buftle gain,
But counterfeit delight for real pain?
If Heaven a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, eafe, and plenty live.
And as I near approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
Whilft I did for a better state prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd,
Nor have the evening of my days perplex'd ;
But by a filent and a peaceful death,
Without a figh, refign my aged breath.
And when committed to the duft, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropt into my grave,
Then would my exit fo propitious be,
All men would wish to live and die like me.
LOVE TRIUMPHANT OVER REASON.
"HO' gloomy thoughts disturb'd my anxious breaft
All the long night, and drove away my reft;
Juft as the dawning day began to rife,
A grateful flumber clos'd my waking eyes;
But active fancy to ftrange regions flew,
And brought furprizing objects to my view.
Methought I walk'd in a delightful grove,
The foft retreat of gods, when gods make love.
Each beauteous object my charm'd soul amaz’d,
And I on each with equal wonder gaz'd;
Nor knew which most delighted: all was fine:
The noble product of fome Power Divine.
But as I travers'd the obliging fhade,
Which myrtle, jeffamine, and roses, made.
I saw a person whose celestial face
At first declar'd her goddess of the place:
But I discover'd, when approaching near,
An afpect full of beauty, but fevere.
Bold and majestic; every awful look
Into my foul a fecret horror ftruck.
Advancing farther on, she made a stand,
And beckon'd me; I, kneeling, kiss'd her hand a
Then thus began-Bright Deity! (for fo
You are, no mortals fuch perfections know)
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