thus liv'd obscurely then without a name, presum❜d to ask, oh! thou, the whole world's eye, in a proud rage, Who can that Aglaüs be? we've heard as yet of no such king as he. And true it was, through the whole earth around no king of such a name was to be found. Is some old hero of that name alive, who his high race does from the gods derive? is it some mighty gen'ral, that has done wonders in sight, and godlike honours won? is it some man of endless wealth? said he. None, none of these. Who can this Aglaüs be? after long search and vain inquiries past, in an obscure Arcadian vale at last, (th' Arcadian life has always shady been) near Sopho's town (which he but once had seen) this Aglaüs, who monarchs' envy drew, whose happiness the gods stood witness to, this mighty Aglaüs was lab'ring found, with his own hands, in his own little ground. So, gracious God! (if it may lawful be among those foolish gods to mention thee,) so let me act, on such a private stage, the last dull scenes of my declining age: after long toils and voyages in vain, this quiet port let my toss'd vessel gain: of heav'nly rest this earnest to me lend; let my life sleep, and learn to love her end. OF GREATNESS. If ever I more riches did desire than cleanliness and quiet do require; OF AVARICE. And, oh! what man's condition can be worse than his whom plenty starves and blessings curse? the beggars but a common fate deplore ; the rich poor man's emphatically poor. I admire, Macænas! how it comes to pass that no man ever yet contented was, nor is, nor perhaps will be, with that state in which his own choice plants him, or his Fate. Happy the merchant, the old soldier cries, the Merchant, beaten with tempestuous skies; happy the soldier, one half hour to thee gives speedy death or glorious victory. The lawyer, knock'd up early from his rest by restless clients, calls the peasant bless'd; the peasant, when his labours ill succeed, envies the mouth which only talk does feed. 'Tis not (I think you'll say) that I want store of instances, if here I add no more; they are enough to reach at least a mile But, hold, you whom no fortune e'er endears, behold Jove's now resolv'd to please you all. Thou, soldier, be a merchant; merchant, thou a soldier be; and lawyer, to the plough. Change all their stations straight; why do they stay? by Jove I'd cudgel this rebellious race: but 't is with a design only to gain what may their age with plenteous ease maintain. Fond Man! what good or beauty can be found in heaps of treasure bury'd under ground? In thy vast barns millions of quarters store, than mine does. Ev'ry baker makes much bread; what then? he's with no more than others fed. Do you within the bounds of nature live, and to agument your own you need not strive. One hundred acres will no less for you your life's whole bus'ness than ten thousand do. But pleasant 't is to take from a great store. What, man! through you're resolved to take no more than I do from a small one? If your will be but a pitcher or a pot to fill. To some great river for it must you go, and of the rapid stream itself, which may th' abundance still, and still the wants does last. The treasures of the gods thou wouldst not spare, but when they're made thine own, they sacred are, and must be kept with rev'rence, as if thou no other use of precious gold didst know, but that of curious pictures, to delight, with the fair stamp, thy virtuoso sight. The only true and genuine use is this, to buy the things which Nature cannot miss without discomfort; oil, and vital bread, and wine, by which the life of Life is fed, and all those few things else by which we live; all that remains is giv'n for thee to give. If cares and troubles, envy, grief, and fear, the bitter fruits be which fair Riches bear, if a new poverty grow out of store, the old plain way, ye Gods! let me be poor. THE DANGER OF PROCASTINATION. incipe, vivendi recte qui prorogat horam, [gone, till the whole stream, which stopp'd him, should be that runs, and as it runs, for ever will run on. Jam cras hesternum consumpsimus, ecce aliud cras egerit hos annos. Our yesterday's to-morrow now is gone, and still a new to-morrow does come on. We by to-morrows draw up all our store, till the exhausted well can yield no more. |