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Hearts melt

, but melt like ice, soon harder froze. | (Not such was His) is neither Strong, nor Pure. Truc love frikes root in Reason; paflion's foe : ()! for the bright complexion, cordial warmth, Virtue alone entenders is for life : 52nd And elevating spirit, of a friend,

585 I wrong her much-Entenders us for ever; For twenty summers ripening by my fide! Of Friendsvip's faire(t fruits, the fruit molt fair All feculence of falsehood lony thrown down; Is Virtue kindling at a rival fire,

All social virtues risinig ia his soul; And, emulously, tapid in her race.

As crystal clear ; and smiling as they rise ! O the soft enmity ! endearing Arise ! 530 | Here Nectar flows : it sparkles in our light : 590 This carries friendship to her noon-wide point, Rich to the talle, and genuine from the heart And gives the rivet of eternity.

High-flavour'd bliss for gods! on earth how rare ! From Friend?. ip, which outlives my former on earth how lift!--Philander is no more, themes,

Think it thou the theme intoxicates my fing? Glorious survivor of old Time and Death;

Am I too warmı? Top warm canoot be. 595 From Friendthip, thus, that flower of heavenly I lov'd him mach; but now I love him more secd;

535 Like birds, whose beauties laoguish, half-concealed, 'The wife extra&s earth's most Hyblean bliss, Till, mounted on the wing, their gloily plumes Superior wisdom, crown'd with smiling joy. Expanded mine with azure, green, and gold;

But for whom blossoms this Elysian forver ? How hleffings brighten as they take their flight! Abroad They find, who cherish it at Home, His Night Philander rook ; his upward flight, 601 Lorenzo! pardon what my love extorts, 540 If ever foulaicended. Had be dropt, An honest love, and not afraid to frown.

(That eagle genius!) O had he let il 'Though choice of follies faiten on the Great, One feather as he flow; 1, then, had wrote, None clings more obflinate than fancy fond What friends might fatter: prudent foes forbear ; That sacred friendship is their easy prey,

Rivals (carce damn ; and Zuilus reprieve. 600 Caught by the wafture of a golden lure, 54.5 Yet what I can, imuit ; it were profane Or fascination of a high-born smile.

To quench a glory lighted at the skies, Their smiles, the Great, and the Coquet, throw out And call in thadows his illustrious close. For Others hearts, tenacious of their Own ; Strange! the therae molt afc&ing, most fub And we no less of ours, when fuch the bait.

lime,

610 Ye fortune's cofferers! Yc powers of wealth ! 550 Momentouş most to man, should deep unsung! Can gold gain friendthip? Impudence of hope ! And yet it feeps, hy genius unawak'd, As well mere man an angel might beget. Painim or Christian ; to the bluth of wit Love, and Love only, is the loan for love. Man's highest criumph! man's profoundest fall! Lorenzo! pride repress; nor hope to find [555 The Death-bed of the jul! is yer ondrawa Ó!) A friend, but what has found a friend in Thce. By mortal hand' it meriis a Divine : All like the purchase ; few the price will pay ; Angels should paint it, angels ever There; And this makes friends such miracles below. There, on a polt of honour, and of joy.

What if (fince daring on so nice a themie) Dare I presunie, then? but Philander bids ; 1 shew thee friendship Delicate, as Dear,

And glory tempts, and inclination calls--- 620 Of tender violations apt to die?

560 Yet am I truck; as struck the soul, beneath Reserve will wound it ; and Difrust, deftruy. Aërial Groves impenetrable gloom'; Deliberate in all things with thy friend.

Or, in some mighty Ruin's folenio fhade ; Buc fince friends grow not thick on every bough Or, gazing by pale lanıps on bigb-born Duf, Nor every friend unrotten at the core;

In vaults; thin courts of poor unfarter'd kings First, on thy friend, deliberate with Thyself; 565 Or, at the midnight Alerr's ballow'd flame. 676 Pause, ponder, fift; not Eager in the choice, Is it religion to proceed ? I pause-Nor jealous of the chosen; Fixing, Fix;

And enter, awid, the temple of my theme. Judge before friendship, then confide till death. Is it his death bed ? No: it is his shrine : Well, for thy friend ; but nobler far for Thee; Behold hini, there, ju rising to a god.

630 How gallant danger for earth's highest prize : The chamber where the good nian meets his A friend is worth all hazards we can run. 571

fate, * Poor is the friendless matter of a world : Is privileg'd beyond the common walk “ A world in purchase for a friend is gain.” Or virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.

So fung He (angels hear what angels sing ! Fly, ye profane! If not, draw near with awe, Angels from friendship gather half their joy) 575 Receive the blesing, and adore the chance, 631 So sung Philander, as his friend went round That threw in this Bethelda your disease ; In the rich icbor, in the generous blood

If unrestor'd by This, despair your cure. Of Bacchus, purple god of joyous wit,

For, Hire, reliftless demonftration dwells; A brow folute, and ever-laughing eye.

A death-bed's a detector of the heart. He drank long health, and virtue, to his friend ;380 Here tir'd disimulation drops her masque,

640 His friend, who warm'd him more, whó more Through life's grimace,' that mistress of the inspir'd.

scene! Friendpip's the wine of life ; but friendship new Here Real, and Apparent, are the same

TO HER GRACE

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MOTU.

You see the Man; you see his hold on heaven;

NIGHT THE THIRD.
If sound his virtue: as Philander's found.
Heaven waits not the last moment ; owns her

NARCISS A.
friends

645 On this fide death , and points them out to men, A ledure, filent, but of sovereign power !

THE DUCHESS OF PORTLAND. To vice, confusion ; and to virtue, peace.

Ignofcenda quidem, fcirent fi ignofcere mones." Whatever farce the boastful hero plays,

Virg Virtue alone has majesty in death!

650 And greater still, the more the tyrant frowns,

TROM Dreams, where thouglıç in fancy's maze Philander ! he feverely frown'd on thee.

runs mad, "No warning given ! Unceremonious fate !

To Reafon, that heaven-lighted lamp in man, A sudden rush from life's meridian joy!

Once more I wake; and at the destin'd hour, * A wrench from all we love! from all we are! Punctual as lovers to the moment (worn, * A restless bed of pain ! a plunge opaque

656
I keep my afsignation with my woe.

5 Beyond conje&ure ! feeble Nature's dread !

0! loft to virtue, loft to manly thought,

Lost to the noble fallies of the fuel! Strong Reason's shudder at the dark unknown ! " A sun extinguisht ! a just-opening grave!

Who think it folitude, to be Alone. “ And oh the last, last, what ? (can words Communion sweet! communion large and high! express?

660 Our Reafun, Guardian Angel, and our God!

Then nearcat There, when Ochers most remote ; " Thought reach it ?) the last-Silence of a friend !"

And All, ere long, shall be remote, but Thale. Where are those horrors, that amazement, where, How dreadful, Then, to nieet them all alone, This hideous group of ills, which fingly shock,

A stranger! unacknowledg'd! unapprov'd'! Demand from man ?-I thought him man till Now woo them; wed them; bind them to thy

665
breast;

15 Through pature’s wreck, through vanquilht To win thy with, creation has no more. agonies,

Or if we wish a fourth, it is a Friend (Like the stars struggling through this midnight But friends, how mortal, dangerous the desire ! gloom)

Take Phæbus to yourselves, ye balking bards ! What gleams of joy? what more than human Inebriate at fair fortune's fountain-head; peace?

And reeling through the wilderness of joy ; Where, the frail mortal ? the poor abjc& worm? Where Sense runs savage, broke from Realus's No, not in death, the Mortol to be found.

chain, His conduct is a legacy for All.

670

And sings false peace, till smother'd by the pall. Richer than Manmon's for his single heir.

My fortune is unlike; unlike iny song : His comforters he comforts; Great in ruin,

Unlike the deity my soug invokes.

25 With unreluctant grandeur, gives, not yields

I to Day's foft-ey'd lister pay my court, His soul sublime ; and closes with his fate.

(Endymion's rival!) and her aid implore; How our hearts burnt within us at the scene ;675 Now first implor'd in succour to the Musé. Whence this brave bound o'er limits fix'd to man?

'Thou, who didst lately borrow * Cynthia's His God sustains him in his final hour !

form, Hie final hour brings glory to his God!

And modestly forego thine Own! 0 Thou, 30 Man's glory heaven vouchsafes to call her own.

Who didst thyself, at midnight hours, inspire ! We gaze, we weep; mix tears of grief of joy!

Say, why not Cynthia patroness of song? Amazement strikes! devotion bursts to flame!681

As thou her crefcent, the thy character Cbristians Adore!. and Infidels Believe.

Assumes; ftill more a goddess by the change. As some tall tower, or lofty mountain's brow,

Are there demurring wits, who dare dispute 35 Detains the fun, Illustrious from its height ;

This revolution in the world inspir'd? While riling vapours, and descending Mades, 685 Ye train Pierian ! co the Lunar sphere, With damps and darkness, drown the spacious vale;

In silent hour, address your ardent call Undampt by doubt, undarken'd by despair,

For aid immortal; less her brother's right. Philander, thus, auguftly rears his head,

She, with the spheres harmonious, nightly leads 40, At that black hour, which general horror sheds

The mazy dance, and hears their matchless strain On the low level of th' inglorious throng.

690

A strain for gods, deny'd to mortal ear. Sweet Peace, and heavenly Hope, and humble Foy, What title, or what name, endears thee molt

Transmit it heard, thou silver queen of heaven ! Divinely bean on his exalted soul; Destruction gild, and crown him for the skies,

Cynthia ! Cyllené! Phæbe ! or doft hear with incommunicable Jastre, bright.

* At tbe duke of Norfolk's masquerade.

20

With higher guit, fair Portland of the skies !

Scorn the proud man that is alhamd to weep is that the soft enchantment calls thee down, Our tears imlug'd indeed di serve our shame. More powerful than of old Circean charm? Ye that e'er loft an angel I pity me. 110 Cone; but from heavenly banquets with thee

Soon as the luftre languifht in her eye, bring

Dawning a dimmer day on human light: The soul of fong, and whisper in my ear 50

And on her cheek, the residence of (pring, "The cheft divine ; or in propitious dreams

Pale omen fat ; and scarter'd fears around For dreams are Thine) transfuse it through the On all that saw (und who would cease to gaze, 115 bread

That once had seen ?) with hatte, parental hale, of thy first votary-But not thy lait ;

Bew, i snatch'd her from the rigid norch, if, like ihy Namefake, thou art ever kind,

Her vative bed, on which bleak Boreas blew, Aud kinki thou wilt be ; kind on such a theme; And bore her nearer to the fun; the sun A theme so like thee, a quite lunar theme, 56 (As is the sun could en vy) checkt his beatri, 120 Soft, modeit, melancholy, feniale, fair! Deny'd his wonied fuccour; oor with more A theme that rufe all pale, and told my soul, Regret beheld her drooping, than the bello I'was Vixhe; on her lond hopes perpetual pight; of lilies; fairelt lilies, not so fair ! A night which struck a damp, a deadlier damp,60 Queen lilies! and ye painted populace! Than that which smote ne from Philander's tonıb. Who dwell in fields, and lead ambrosial lives ; 125 Narcula follows, ere his comb is clos'd.

In morn and evening dew, your beauties bathe, Woes cluster : rare are solitary woes;

And drink the sun; which gives your cheeks 10 "They lovc a train, they tread each other's heel;

glow,
Her death invades bis mournful right, and claims And our-blush (mine excepted) every fair;
The grief that itarted from ny lids for Him : 66 | You gladlier grew, ambitious of her hand,
Seizes the faithless, aliepated tear,

Which often cropt your odours, incense meet 130
Or thares it, ere it falls. So frequent death, To thought fo pure ! ye lovely fugitives!
Sorrow he more than caufes, he confounds; Coeval race with man ! for man you smile;
For human fighs his rival strokes contend, 70 Why por smile at him too? You share indeed
* And make distress, distraction. Oh Philander ! His sudden pass; but not his constant pain.
What was thy fate? A double fate to me;

So man is made, naught minifters delight, 135 Portent, and pain! a menace and a blow !

But what his glowing paffions, can engage; Like the black raven hovering o'er my peace,

And glowing passions, bent on aught below, Not lefs a bird of omen than of prey. 75 Mutt, foon or late, with anguish turn the scale; It callid Narcissa long before her hour;

And anguilh, after rapture, how severe! It call'd her tender soul, by break of bliss, Rapture ? Bold man who tempt'st the wrath die From the first blossom, from the buds of joy ;

vine,

140 Those few our noxious fate unblasted leaves By plucking fruit denied to mortal taste, In this inclement clime of human life. 80 While bere, presuming on the rights of heaven.

Sweet harmonist ! and Beautiful as sweet ! For transpore dost thou call on every hour,
And Young as beautiful! and Soft as young!

Lorenzo ? At thy friend's expence, be wise; And Gay as fofe! and Innocent as gay!

Lean not on carth ; 'twill pierce thee to the And Happy (if anghe Happy bere) as good!

heart;

145 For fortune fond had built her nelt on high. 85 A broken reed, at best ; but, oft, a spear; Like birds quite exquisite of note and plume, On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires. Transfixe by fate (who loves a lofty mark),

Turn, hopeless thought ! turn from her: How from the sunimit of the grove the fell,

Thought repellid And left it unharmonious! All its charms Resenting rallies, and wakes every woc. (150 Exringuisht in the wonders of her song ! 90 Snatch'd ere thy prime! and in thy bridal hour! Her song still vibrates in my ravisht ear,

And when' kind fortune, with thy lover, smild ! Still melting there, and with voluptuous pain And when high flavour's thy frch opening joys ! (O to forget her !) chrilling through my heart! And when blind man pronounc'd thy bliss conSong, Beauty, Youth, Love, Virtue, Joy;

this

plete ! group

And on a foreign shore ; where strangers wept ! Of bright ideas, flowers of paradise, 95 Strangers to Thee ; and, more surprising fill, 155 As yet unforfeit ! in one blaze we bind, Strangers to Kindness, wept : their eyes let fall Kneel and present it to the skies : as All

inhuman tears! strange tears ! that trickled down We guess of heaven ; and tbese were all her own, From marble hearts ! obdurate tenderness! And the was mine ; and was-was !--mult A tenderness that call'd them more severe; bleft--

In spite of nature's foft persuasion, steel'd; 160 Gay title of the deepest misery !

100 While nature melted, superstition rav'd; As bodies grow more ponderous, robb’d of lisc, That mourn'd the dead, and this denied a grave. Good loft weighs more in grief, than gain'd in joy. Their sighs incens'd; sighs foreign to the will! Like bloffom'd trees o'er turn'd by vernal storm, Their will the Tiger fuck’d, outrag'd the storm, Lovely in death the beautcous ruin lay;

For, oh! the curl ungodliness of zeal! 165 And if in death ftill lovely, lovelier There 105 While finful Aefo relented, spirit nurst Far lovelier ! pity swells the tide of love. in blind infallibility's embrace, And will not the levere excuse a ligh?

The suinted spirit petrify'd the break;

d deep

240

255

Deny'd the charity of dust, 'to łpread

Shame to mankind ! Philander had his focs : O'er duft ! a charity their dogs enjoy. 170 He felt the truths I fing, and I in Hin. What could I do? What succour? What resource? But He, nor I, feel more : paft ills, Narcisa ! With pious facrilege, a grave I stole ;

Are fuuk in Thee, thou recent wound of heart With impious piety, that grave I wrong'd;

Which bleeds with other cares, with other paogs; Short in my duty ; coward in my grief !

Pangs numerous,

as the numerous ilis thar More like her murderer, than friend, I crept, 175

(warni'd

238 With soft-suspended ftep, and mul

Oe'r thy diftinguish'd fate, and, clustering Thuse In midnight darkness, whisper'd my last figh. Thick as the locusts on the land of Nile, I wbifper'd what should echo through their realms; Made death more deadly, and more dark the Nor writ her name, whose tomb flould pierce the grave. Ikies.

Refled (if not forgot my toucliing tale) Presumptuous fear! How durst I dread her foes, How was each circumstance with afpics arm’d? While nature's loudel dictates I obey'd ? 181 An afpje, Each! and All, an Hydra woe : Pardon rieceflity, bleft hade ! Of grief

What strong Herculean virtue could fuffice ? And indignation rival bursts 1 pour'd;

Or is it virtuc to he conquer'd Here? Half execration mingled with my prayer; This houry check a train of tears bedows; Kindledat man,

while 1 his God ador'd ; 185 And each tear mourns its own distinct distress; Sore grudg'd the savage land her facred duft; And each distress, diftinctly mourn'd, demands Stampe the curft foil; and with humanity Of grief ftill more, as heightend by the whole (Denied Narcilla) with them all a grave." A grief like this proprietors excludes

Glows my refentment into guilt ? What guilt Not friends alone luch obsequies deplore ; 250 Can equal violations of the dead?

190. They make mankind the mourner ; carry fighs The dead how facred ! Sacred is the dust

Far as the fatal Fame can wing her way: Of this heaven-labour'd form, erect, divine ! And turn the gayeft thought of gayett age, This heaven-assum'd majestic robe of earth, Down their right channel, through the vale of He deign’d to wear, who hung the vast expanse

death. With azure bright, and cloath'd the fun in gold. The vale of death! that hulh'd Cimmeria When every passion fleeps that can offend; 196 vale, When strikes us every motive that can melt; Where De knofs, brooding o'er unfinith'd fates, When man can wreak his rancour uncontreld, With raven wing incumbent, waits the day That strongest curb on insult and ill-will ;

(Dread day !) that interdicts all future change! Tben, spleen to dup the dust of innocence ? 200 That subterranean world, that land of ruin ! An angel's duft ? ---This Lucifer transcends ; Fit walk, Lorenzo, for proud hunian thought !! When he contended for the patriarch's bones, There let my thought expatiate, and explore 266 'Twas not the strife of malice, but of pride ; Ballantic truths and healiog sentiments, 'The strife of pontiff pride, not pontiff gall. Of all most wanted, and most welcome, bere. For less than This is shocking in a race 205

For

gay Lorenzo's fake, and for thy own, (285 Most wretched, but from streams of mutual love; My soul!“ The fruits of dying friends surveys And uncreated, but for love divine;

" Expose the vein of life ; weith life and death; And, but for love divine, this moment loft, “ Give death his eulogy; thy fear tubduc; By fate reforb'd, and sunk in endless night. “ And labour that firti palm of Iloile minds, Man hard of heart to man ! of horrid things 210 “ A manly fcorn of terror from the tonib." Most horrid! 'Mid ftupendous, highly strange! This harvest reap from thy Narcid a's grave 270 Yet oft his courtesies are finoother wrongs ; As poet's feign'd from sjar' Streaming vlood Pride brandishes the favours He confers,

Arose, with grief inferib'd, a mourntul fower; And contumelious his humanity :

%14 | Let wisdom bloffoni from my mortal weid. What then his vengeance? Hear ic not, ye itars ! And fort, of dying friends; whas truit from And thou, pale moon ! curn paler at the found ;

these? Man is to man the forest, fureft ill.

It brings us more than triple aid ; an aid

%75 A previous blast foretels the rising form ; To chase our thoughtlelines, geor, Oride and guilt. O'erwhelming turrets threaten ere they falla Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud, Volcanos bellow ere they disembogue ; 220lo damp our brainless ardors; and abate Earth trembles ere her yawning jaws devour; That glare of life which often blinds the wife. And smoke betrays the wide-consuming fire : Our dying friends are pioneers, to imosch Ruin from man is most conceal'd when near, Our rugged pass to death; to break chose bars And sends the dreadful tidings in the blow. Of terror, and abhorrence, nature throws Is this the flight of fancy? Would it were ! 225 Cross our obtructed way; and thus to make Heaven's Sovereign saves all beings, but himself, | Welcome, as fafe, our port from every storin, That hideous fight, a naked human heart.

Each friend by fute fiarch'd from us, is a piume Fird is the Muse? And let the Mufe be fir'd : Pluck'd from the wing of human vanity, 385 Who not enflam'd, when what he speaks, he feels, Wh ch makes us stoop from our aerial heights, And in the nerve most tender, in his friends ? 230 And, dampt with onen of our own decealer

230

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On drooping pinions of ambition lower'd, To what are they reduc'd? To love, and late, Just skin carth's surface, cre we break it up, 290 The fame vain world ; to cenfure, and espouse, O'er putrid earth to scratch a little dust,

This painted threw of life, who calls them fool And save the world a nuisance. Smitten friends Each inoment of each day; to flatter bad

356 Are angels lent on errands full of love;

Through dread of worse ? to cling to this rudcom For us they languish, and for us they die :

rock, «And thall they languish, shall they die in vain ?295 Barren to them, of good, and sharp with ills, Ungrateful, ihall we grieve their hovering thades, And hourly Jacken'd' with impending storms, Which wait the revolution in our hearts?

And infamous for wrecks of human hope- 360 Shall we disdain their filent, fost addreis,

Scar'd at the gloomy gulph that yawnis beneath. Their posthumous advice, and pious prayer ?

Such are their triumphs, such their pangs of joy! Senseless, as herds that graze their hallow'd graves, "Tis time, high time, to shift this difmal scene. Tread under-fout their agonies and groans; 301

This bugg'd, this biduous state, what are cap dure! Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths ? One only; but that one, what all may reach ; 365 Lorenzo ! no; the thought of death indulge;

Virtue-lhe, wonder-working goddess! charms Give it its wholefome empire ! let it reign,

That rock to bloom, and tanies the painted brew; That kind chattiser of thy foul in joy! 305

And, what will more surprize, Lorenzo! gives les reign will spread thy glorious conquests far,

To lise's lick, nauscous iteration, change ;
And fill the tumults of thy ruffled breast : And itraightens nature's circle to a line.
Auspicious ära ! golden days, begin!

Believ'lt thou this, Lorenzo ? lend an ear,
The thought of death shall, like a inspire. A patient ear, thou 'lt blush to disbelievca
And why not think ou duash? Is life the theme 310 A languid, leaden, iteration reigns,
Of every thought ? and wish of every hour ?

And ever muft, o'cr those, whose joys are joys And song of every joy ? Surprising eruch ! Of fight, smell, tafte: the cuckow seasons ting The beaten spaniel's fondness not so strange,

The fame dull note to such as nothing prize, 376 To wave the numerous ills that feize on life But what those seasons, from the teeming earth, As their own property, their lawful prty; 315

To doating sense indulge. But nobler minds, Ere man has mcalur'd half his weary stage,

Which relish fruits unripen'd by the fun, His luxuries have left him no reserve,

Make their days various; various as the dyes 380 No maiden relishes, unbroach'd delights;

On the dove's neck, which wanton in bis rays, On cold ferv'd repetitions he subfifts,

On' minds of dove-like innocence polkit, And in the tasteless present chews the past;

320

On lighten'd minds, that balk in virtue's beams, Dilgusted chews, and scarce can swailow down. Nothing hangs tedious, nothing old revolves (385 Like lavish ancestors, his earlier years

In that, for which they long; for which they live. Have difinherited his future hours,

Their glorious efforts, wing'd with heavenly hope, Which farve ou orts, and gieun their former field. Each rising morning lees still higher rise ;

Live ever here, Lorenzo !--hocking thought ! Each bounteous dawn its novelty presents So shocking, they who wish, ditown it too; 326 To worth maturing, new strength, lustre, fame; Difown from shame, what they from folly crave.

While nature's circle, like a chariot wheel 396 Live ever in the womb, nor see the light? Rolling beneath their elevated aims, For what live ever here ! -With labouring step Makcs their fair prospect fairer every hour; To tread our former footsteps? Pace the round 330 Advancing virtue, in a line to bliss ; Eternal ? To climb lise's worn, heavy wheel,

Virtue, which Christian motives best inspire! (395 Which draws up nothing new? To beat, and beat And bliss, which Christian ichemes alone enture! The beaten track ? To bid each wretched day

And shall we then, for virtue's fake, commence The former mock? To furfeit on the same, Apoftates; and turn infidels for joy? And yawn our joys ? Or thank a'misery

335

A truth it is, few doubt, but fewer trust, For change, though fad? To see what we have" He fins against this life, who flights the road." seen?

What is this life? How few their favourite kuow! Hear, till unheard, the same old flabber'd tale ? Fond in the dark, and blind in our embrace, 401 To taste the tasted, and at each return

By passionately loving life, we make Less tasteful? O'er our palates to decant

Lov'd life unlovely; hugging her to death, Another vintage ? Strain a fatter year, 340 We give to Time Eternity's regard ; Through loaded vessels, and a laxer tone? And dreaming, take our pasage for our port. 40$ Crazy machines to grind carth's wasted fruits ! Life has no value as an end, but means; Ill-ground, and worse concocted! Load, not life ! An end deplorable! a mcaas divine ! The rational foul kennels of excess!

When pris our all, 'tis nothing ; worse than Still-streaming thoroughfares of dull debauch ! 345 nought; Trembling each gulp left death should snatch the A nest of pains: when held as nothing, much: bowl.

Like some fair humourists, life is most enjoy'd, Such of our fine-ores is the with refin'd! When courted leaft; most worth, when dilSo would they have it ; elegant desire !

esteem'd:

411 Why not invite the bellowing stalls, and wilds? Then 'tis the seat of comfort, rich in peace; But such examples might their riot awe. 350 In prospect richer far; important! awful! Through want of virtue, that is, want of thought, Not to be mention'd, but with houts of praise ! (Though on bright tborght they father all their flights) Not to be thought on, but with sides of joy! 415

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