« ПредишнаНапред »
Where savage nature in one common lies,
But where th' appointed limits of a law
Here mifers mourn
But that last act Thall in one moment close Of doubt and darkness; pain fhall crack the strings Of life decayed; no less the soul convals’d, Trembles in anxious cares, and thuddering itands, : 1 Afraid to leap into the opening gulph Of future fate, till all the banks of clay Fall from beneath his feet : in vain he gráfps The shatter'd reeds that cheat his easy wish. Reason is now no more; that narrow lamp (Which with its fickly fires would shoot its beams To distances unknown, and tretch its rays Akance my paths, in deepest darkness veil'd) Is sunk into his focket; inly there It burns à dismal light; th' expiring flame Is choak'd in fumes, and parts in various doubt,
Then the gay glories of the living world Shall cast their empty varnish, and retire Out of his feeble view ; and rising shade Sit hov'ring o'er all nature's various face. Mufick shall cease, and inftruments of joy Shall fail that sullen hour; nor can the mind Attend their sounds, when fancies swim in death, Confus'd and crush'd with cares: for long shall seem The dreary road, and melancholy dark, That leads he knows not where. Here empty space Gapes horrible, and threatens to absorb All being : yonder footy demons glare,
wi And dolorons fpectres grin; the shapeless rout
Of wild imagination dance and play
He ended. Peals of thunder rend the heavens,
LD Chiron to his pupil thus began,
When he beheld him rip'ning into man. " Accomplish'd youth! well worthy of my pains, “ You now are free, and guide yourself the reins : “ Yet hear, Achilles, hear, before we part, “ A few short precepts from a faithful heart.
" What tho the gods a Neftor's age deny ! « Let management a longer life supply, « And learn, at least, to live, before you die. “ A little tract, well tillid, more profit yields “ Than realms of wild, uncultivated fields. “ 'Tis not from length of years our pleasares flow, “ Nor to the gods alone our bliss we owe. “ Our happiness, and pain depend on us : “ Man's his own good, or evil genius. • Great ills by art we lighten, or remove, " And art our meanest pleasures may improve : " Mach to ourselves is due, tho' much to Jove.
«*Think not, young prince, your elevated state, “ Birth, honours, or the empty name of great, “ Can fix your joys; they're ill secur'd, unlefs “ You know yourself to form your happiness, " Which in the shepherd's humble hut is found, “ While palaces with discord still resound. “ Fortune to industry is ever kind, “ And, tho' by the blind valgar painted blind, “ Is ftill more equal than the crowd suppose, “ Who judge of happiness by outward shows; • She smiles on all conditions, may
be “ A man of pleasure in his own degree.
“ Yet few with art their happiness pursue, • Tho' all mankind have happiness in view, “ And ev'ry sense seems made by nature's skill ar For giving pleasure and avoiding ill.
Nature our common mother has been kind,
" Shun then, Achilles, fhun the faults of such,
“ But you, aspiring youth, by nature seem