But art and nature, powers and charms,
And drugs, and recipes, and forms,
Yield us, at last, to greedy worms
A despicable prey;
I'd have a life to call my own,
That shall depend on heaven alone;
Nor air, nor earth, nor fea
Mix their bafe effences with mine,
Nor claim dominion fo divine
To give me leave to Be.
Sure there's a mind within, that reigns
O'er the dull current of my veins;
I feel the inward pulse beat high
With vigorous immortality.
Let earth resume the flesh it gave,
And breath diffolve amongst the winds
Gibson, the things that fear a grave,
That I can lofe, or you can fave,
Are not akin to minds.
We claim acquaintance with the skies,
Upward our fpirits hourly rife,
And there our thoughts employ :
When heaven shall sign our grand release,
We are no ftrangers to the place,
The business, or the joy.
TYLO, forbear to call him bleft
That only boasts a large eftate,
Should all the treafures of the Weft
Meet, and confpire to make him great.
I know thy better thoughts, I know
Thy reafon can't defcend fo low.
Let a broad ftream with golden fands
Through all his meadows roll,
He's but a wretch, with all his lands,
That wears a narrow foul.
He swells amidst his wealthy store,
And proudly poizing what he weighs,
In his own fcale he fondly lays
Huge heaps of shining ore.
He spreads the balance wide to hold
His manors and his farms,
And cheats the beam with loads of gold
He hugs between his arms.
So might the plough-boy climb a tree,
When Crofus mounts his throne,
And both stand up, and fmile to fee
How long their fhadow 's grown.
Alas! how vain their fancies be
To think that shape their own!
Thus mingled ftill with wealth and state,
Cræfus himself can never know;
His true dimenfions and his weight
Are far inferior to their fhow..
Were I fo tall to reach the pole,
Or grafp the ocean with my span,
I must be meafur'd by my foul:
The mind's the standard of the man.
EAR up, Sariffa, through the ruffling ftorms
Of a vain vexing world: Tread down the cares Thofe ragged thorns that lie across the road, Nor spend a tear upon them. Trust the Muse, She fings experienc'd truth: This briny dew, This rain of eyes will make the briars grow. We travel through a defert, and our feet Have meafur'd a fair space, have left behind A thousand dangers, and a thousand fnares Well fcap'd. Adieu, ye horrors of the dark, Ye finish'd labours, and ye tedious toils Of days and hours: The twinge of real smart, And the falfe terrors of ill boding dreams Vanish together, be alike forgot,
For ever blended in one common grave.
Farewell, ye waxing and ye waning moons,
That we have watch'd behind the flying clouds
On night's dark hill, or fetting or afcending,
Or in meridian height: Then filence reign'd
O'er half the world; then ye beheld our tears,
Ye witness'd our complaints, our kindred groans,
(Sad harmony!) while with your beamy horns
Or richer orb ye filver'd o'er the green
Where trod our feet, and lent a feeble light
have fulfill'd your round,
Thofe hours are fled, farewell. Months that are gone
Are gone for ever, and have borne away
Each his own load. Our woes and forrows paft,
Mountainous woes, ftill leffen as they fly
Far off. So billows in a ftormy fea,
Wave after wave (a long fucceffion) rolk
Beyond the ken of fight: The failors fafe
Look far a-stern till they have loft the storm,
And fhout their boisterous joys. A gentler Mufe
Sings thy dear fafety, and commands thy cares
To dark oblivion; bury'd deep in night
Lofe them, Sariffa, and affift my fong.
Awake thy voice, fing how the flender line
Of fate's immortal Now divides the paft
From all the future, with eternal bars
Forbidding a return. The past temptations
No more fhall vex us; every grief we feel
Shortens the deftin'd number; every pulse
Beats a fharp moment of the pain away,
N
And the laft ftroke will come. By fwift degrees
Time fweeps us off, and we fhall foon arrive
At life's fweet period: O celestial point
That ends this mortal story!
But if a glimpse of light with flattering ray
Breaks through the clouds of life, or wandering fire
Amidst the fhades invite your doubtful feet,
Beware the dancing meteor; faithless guide,
That leads the lonesome pilgrim wide aftray
To bogs, and fens, and pits, and certain death!
Should vicious pleasure take an angel-form
And at a distance rife, by flow degrees,
Treacherous, to wind herself into your heart,
Stand firm aloof; nor let the gaudy phantom
Too long allure your gaze: The just delight
That heaven indulges lawful must obey
Superior powers; nor tempt your thoughts too far
In flavery to fenfe, nor fwell your hope
To dangerous fize: If it approach your feet
And court your hand, forbid th' intruding joy
To fit too near your heart: Still may our fouls
Claim kindred with the fkies, nor mix with dust
Our better-born affections; leave the globe
A neft for worms, and haften to our home.
O there are gardens of th' immortal kind That crown the heavenly Eden's rifing hills With beauty and with fweets; no lurking mischief Dwells in the fruit, nor ferpent twines the boughs;
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