The whole minute creation make his own,
With all the wonders of a world unknown.

How could the mind, did fhe alone depend
On fenfe, the errors of thofe fenfes mend?
Yet oft, we fee those fenfes the corrects,
And oft their information quite rejects.
In diftances of things, their fhapes and fize,
Our reafon judges better than our eyes.
Declares not this the foul's preeminence
Superior to, and quite diftinct from fenfe?
For fure 'tis likely, that, fince now fo high
Clogg'd and unfledg'd fhe dares her wings to try,
Loos'd, and mature, fhe fhall her strength display,
And foar at length to Truth's refulgent ray.

Inquire you how these pow'rs we shall attain?
'Tis not for us to know; our fearch is vain :
Can any now remember or relate>

How he existed in the embryo ftate ?
Or one from birth infenfible of day
Conceive ideas of the folar ray?

That light's deny'd to him, which others fee,
He knows, perhaps you'll fay, and so do we.
The mind contemplative finds nothing here
On earth, that's worthy of a wifh or fear :

He,

He, whofe fublime purfuit is God and truth,
Burns, like fome abfent and impatient youth,
To join the object of his warm defires,
Thence to fequefter'd shades, and streams retires,
And there delights his paffion to rehearse

In wisdom's facred voice, or in harmonious verse.
To me moft happy therefore he appears,
Who having once, unmov'd by hopes or fears,
Survey'd this fun, earth, ocean, clouds, and flame,
Well fatisfy'd returns from whence he came.
Is life a hundred years, or e'er fo few,

'Tis repetition all, and nothing new :

A fair, where thousands meet, but none can stay,
An inn, where travellers bait, then poft away;
A fea, where man perpetually is toft,

Now plung'd in bus'nefs, now in trifles loft;
Who leave it first, the peaceful port firft gain;
Hold then! no farther launch into the main :
Contract your fails; life nothing can bestow
By long continuance, but continu'd woe:
The wretched privilege daily to deplore
The funerals of our friends, who go before:
Diseases, pains, anxieties, and cares,
And age furrounded with a thousand fnares.

But

But whither hurry'd by a generous fcorn
Of this vain world, ah! whither am I borne?
Let's not unbid th' Almighty's ftandard quit,
Howe'er fevere our poft, we must fubmit.
Could I a firm perfuafion once attain
That after death no being would remain;
To thofe dark fhades I'd willingly descend,
Where all must fleep, this drama at an end:
Nor life accept, although renew'd by Fate
Ev'n from its earlieft, and its happiest state.

Might I from Fortune's bounteous hand receive Each boon, each bleffing in her pow'r to give, Genius, and science, morals, and good-fenfe, Unenvy'd honors, wit and eloquence,

A numerous offspring to the world well known
Both for paternal virtues and their own;
Ev'n at this mighty price I'd not be bound
To tread the fame dull circle round, and round;
The foul requires enjoyments more fublime,
By space unbounded, undestroy'd by time.

BOOK

GOD

OD then through all creation gives, we find, OD then through all Sufficient marks of an indulgent mind, Excepting in ourselves; ourselves of all

His works the chief on this terreftrial ball,
His own bright image, who alone unblest
Feels ills perpetual, happy all the rest.

But hold, prefumptuous! charge not heav'n's decree

With fuch injustice, fuch partiality.

Yet true it is, furvey we life around,

Whole hofts of ills on every fide are found;

Who wound not here and there by chance a foe,

But at the fpecies meditate the blow.

What millions perish by each others hands

In war's fierce rage? or by the dread commands
Of tyrants languifh out their lives in chains,
Or lofe them in variety of pains?

What numbers pinch'd by want and hunger die,
In spite of Nature's liberality?

(Those, still more numerous, I to name disdain,
By lewdness, and intemperance justly flain :)
What numbers, guiltlefs of their own disease,
Are fnatch'd by fudden death, or wafte by flow degrees?

Where

Where then is Virtue's well-deferv'd reward!

Let's pay to Virtue every due regard :

That she enables man, let us confefs,

To bear those evils, which fhe can't redress;
Gives hope, and confcious peace, and can affuage
Th' impetuous tempefts both of luft, and rage,
Yet fhe's a guard fo far from being fure,
That oft her friends peculiar ills endure:
Where Vice prevails fevereft is their fate,
Tyrants pursue them with a three-fold hate.
How many struggling in their country's cause,
And from their country meriting applause,
Have fall'n by wretches fond to be inslav'd,
And perish'd by the hands themselves had fav'd!
Soon as fuperior worth appears in view,

1

See knaves, and fools united to pursue !
The man fo form'd they all conspire to blame,
And Envy's pois'nous tooth attacks his fame;
Should he at length, fo truly good and great,
Prevail, and rule with honest views the state,
Then must he toil for an ungrateful race, y
Submit to clamor, libels, and difgrace;

Threaten'd, oppos'd, defeated in his ends,

By foes feditious and aspiring friends, a istund at A

Hear