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Not different have I seen in dreary vault
Difplay'd, a coffin; on each fable fide
The texture unmolefted feems entire.
Fraudful, when touch'd it glides to duft away!
And leaves the wondering fwain to gape, or stare,
And with expreffive fhrug, and piteous sigh,
Declare the fatal force of rolling years,

Or dire extent of frail mortality.

This aged vefture, fcorn of gazing beaux,
And formal cits, (themfelves too haply fcorn'd)
Both on its fleeve and on its skirt, retains
Full many a pin wide-fparkling: for, if e'er
Their well-known creft met his delighted eye,
Though wrapt in thought, commercing with the sky,
He, gently stooping, fcorn'd not to upraise,
And on each fleeve, as confcious of their use,
Indenting fix them; nor, when arm'd with thefe,
The cure of rents and feparations dire,

And chafms enormous, did he view dismay'd
Hedge, bramble, thicket, bush, portending fate
To breeches, coat and hose! had any wight
Of vulgar skill, the tender texture own'd;
But gave his mind to form a sonnet quaint
Of Silvia's fhoe-string, or of Cloe's fan,
Or fweetly-fashion'd tip of Celia's ear.
Alas! by frequent ufe decays the force
Of mortal art! the refractory robe
Eludes the taylor's art, eludes his own;
How potent once, in union quaint conjoin'd!

Sce

See near his bed (his bed too falfely call'd
The place of reft, while it a Bard fuftains;
Pale, meagre, Mufe-rid wight! who reads in vain
Narcotic volumes o'er) his candlestick,

Radiant machine, when from the plastic hand
Of Mulciber, the mayor of Birmingham,

The engine issued; now alas difguis'd

By many an unctuous tide, that wandering down
Its fides congeal; what he, perhaps, effays
With humour forc'd, and ill-diffembled smile,
Idly to liken to the poplar's trunk

When o'er its bark the lucid amber, wound

In many a pleafing fold, incrufts the tree.
Or fuits him more the winter's candy'd thorn,
When from each branch, anneal'd, the works of froft
Pervasive, radiant ificles depend?

How fhall I fing the various ill that waits
The careful fonneteer? or who can paint
The shifts enormous, that in vain he forms
To patch his panelefs window; to cement
His batter'd tea-pot, ill-retentive vafe?
To war with ruin? anxious to conceal
Want's fell appearance, of the real ill
Nor foe, nor fearful. Ruin unforeseen
Invades his chattels; ruin will invade ;
Will claim his whole invention to repair,
Nor, of the gift, for tuneful ends design'd,
Allow one part to decorate his fong.
While ridicule, with ever-pointing hand
Confcious of every shift, of every shift
S

Indi

Indicative, his inmoft plot betrays,

Points to the nook, which he his study calls
Pompous and vain! for thus he might esteem
His cheft, a wardrobe; purse, a treasury;
And fhews, to crown her full display, himself.
One whom the powers above, in place of health,
And wonted vigour; of paternal cot,

Or little farm; of bag, or fcrip, or staff,
Cup, difh, fpoon, plate, or worldly utenfil,
A poet fram'd; yet fram'd not to repine,
And with the cobler's loftieft fite his own;
Nor, partial as they seem, upbraid the fates,
Who to the humbler mechanifm, join'd

Goods fo fuperior, fuch exalted blifs!

See with what seeming eafe, what labour'd peace, He, hapless hypocrite! refines his nail,

His chief amufement! then how feign'd, how forc'd, That care-defying fonnet, which implies

His debts difcharg'd, and he of half a crown

In full poffeffion, uncontested right

And property! Yet ah! whoe'er this wight
Admiring view, if fuch there, be, distrust

The vain pretence; the fmiles that harbour grief
As lurks the ferpent deep in flowers enwreath'd.
Forewarn'd, be frugal; or with prudent rage
Thy pen demolish; chufe the truftier flail,
And blefs thofe labours which the choice infpir'd.
But if thou view'ft a vulgar mind, a wight
Of common fenfe, who seeks no brighter name,
Hi envy, him admire, him, from thy breast,

-Pre

Prefcient of future dignities, falute

Sheriff, or mayor, in comfortable furs

Enwrapt, fecure: nor yet the laureat's crown
In thought exclude him! He perchance fhall rife
To nobler heights than forefight can decree.

When, fir'd with wrath, for his intrigues display'd In many an idle fong, Saturnian Jove

Vow'd fure deftruction to the tuneful race;
Appeas'd by suppliant Phoebus, "Bards, he said,
Henceforth of plenty, wealth, and pomp debarr'd,
But fed by frugal cares, might wear the bay
Secure of thunder."-Low the Delian bow'd,
Nor at th' invidious favour dar'd repine.

THE RUIN'D ABBEY;

OR,

THE EFFECTS OF SUPERSTITION.

Α

T length fair peace with olive crown'd regains
Her lawful throne, and to the facred haunts
Of wood or fount the frighted Mufe returns.
Happy the Bard, who, from his native hills,
Soft mufing on a fummer's eve, furveys
His azure ftream, with penfile woods enclos'd!
Or o'er the glaffy furface, with his friend,
Or faithful fair, through bordering willows green
Wafts his fmall frigate. Fearless he of fhouts,
Or taunts, the rhetoric of the watery crew
That ape confufion from the realms they rule!
S 2

Fear

Fearless of these; who fhares the gentler voice
Of peace and music; birds of sweetest song
Attune from native boughs their various lay,
And chear the forest; birds of brighter plume
With busy pinion skim the glittering wave,
And tempt the fun; ambitious to display
Their several merit, while the vocal flute,
Or number'd verse, by female voice endear'd,
Crowns his delight, and mollifies the scene.
If folitude his wandering steps invite

To some more deep recess (for hours there are,
When gay, when focial minds to friendship's voice,
Or beauty's charm, her wild abodes prefer);

How pleas'd he treads her venerable shades,
Her folemn courts! the centre of the grove!
The root-built cave, by far-extended rocks
Around embofom'd, how it foothes the foul!
If scoop'd at firft by fuperftitious hands
The rugged cell receiv'd alone the fhoals
Of bigot minds, religion dwells not here,
Yet virtue pleas'd, at intervals, retires:
Yet here may wisdom, as she walks the maze,
Some ferious truths collect, the rules of life,
And ferious truths of mightier weight than gold!
I afk not wealth; but let me hoard with care,
With frugal cunning, with a niggard's art,
A few fix'd principles; in early life,
Ere indolence impede the fearch, explor'd.
Then, like old Latimer, when age impairs

My judgment's eye, when quibbling schools attack

My

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