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Tell it some untaught savage! with surprise He asks, "How vast must be that giant's size! "How great his pow'r, who thousands can

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Blest when we reach it, wretched while we miss,

Our joys, our sorrows prove, there must be bliss.

"How great his force, who millions can de-Nor can this be some visionary dream,

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employ! stroy!"

But if the savage would, more curious, know
What potent virtues from such viands flow,
What blest effects they cause— consult with
Sloane,

Let him explain the colic, gout, and stone?
Pleasure's for use; it differs in degree,
Proportion'd to the thing's necessity.
Hence various objects variously excite,
And diff'rent is the date of each delight;
But when th' allotted end we once attain,
Each step beyond it, is a step to pain.
Nor let us murmur-Hath not earth a store
For
every want? it was not meant for more,
Blest is the man, as far as earth can bless,
Whose measur'd passions reach no wild ex-

cess;

Who, urg'd by nature's voice, her gifts enjoys, Nor other means, than nature's force, employs. While warm with youth the sprightly current flows,

Each vivid sense with vig'rous rapture glows; And when he droops beneath the hand of

age,

No vicious habit stings with fruitless rage; Gradual, his strength, and gay sensations cease, While joys tumultuous sink in silent peace.

Far other is his lot, who, not content
With what the bounteous care of nature meant,
With labor'd skill would all her joys dilate,
Sublime their sense, and lengthen out their
date :

Add, blend, compose, each various mixture, try,
And wind up appetite to luxury.
Thus guilty art unknown desires implants,
And viler arts must satisfy their wants;
When to corruption by himself betray'd,
Gold blinds the slave, whom luxury has made.
The hand that forin'd us, must some use in-
tend,

It gives us pow'rs proportion'd to that end;
And happiness may justly be defin'd,
A full attainment of the end design'd.
Virtue and wisdom this alike implies,
And blest must be the virtuous and the wise.
Bliss is ordain'd for all, since heaven intends
All beings should attain their destin'd ends:
For this the fair idea shines confess'd

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every mind, and glows in every breast. Compar'd with this, all mortal joys are vain; Inspir'd by this, we restless onward strain. High though we mount, the object mounts more high,

Eludes our grasp, and mingles with the sky. With nothing less th' aspiring soul's content, For nothing less her gen'rous flame was meant Th' unerring rule which all our steps should guide,

The certain test, by which true good is try'd.

1

;

Where heated fancy forms the flatt'ring scheme.
There sure is bliss-else, why by all desir'd?
What guileful pow'r has the mad search in-
spir'd?

Could accident produce in all the same,
Or a vain shadow raise a real flame?
When nature in the world's distended space,
Or fill'd, or almost fill'd each smaller place;
Careful in meanest matter to produce
Each single motion for some certain use;
Hard was the lot of her first fav'rite, man,
Faulty the scheme of his contracted span,
If that alone must know an useless void,
And he feel longings ne'er to be enjoy'd.

That only can produce consummate joy,
Which equals all the pow'rs it would employ ;
Such fitting object to each talent giv'n,
Each cannot fit what was design'd for heav'n.
Why then is man with gifts sublimest fraught,
And active will, and comprehensive thought?

For what is all this waste of mental force?
What! for a house, a coach, a dog, a horse?
Has nature's Lord inverted nature's plan?
Is man now made for what was made for man?
There must be pleasures past the reach of

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Who fills each faculty, each pow'r can move,
Exerts all thought, and deep absorbs all love;
Whose ceaseless being years would tell in
vain,

Whose attributes immense all bounds disdain.
No sickly taste the heav'nly rapture cloys,
Nor wearied senses sink in whelming joys;
While, rais'd above low matter's grosser frame,
Pure spirit blazes in his purer flame.
Such are th' immortal blessings that attend
The just, the good, the patriot, and the friend.
Nor such alone in distant prospect cheer,
They taste heav'n's joys anticipated here.
These in the smiling cups of pleasure flow,
Or, mingling, sooth the bitter stream of woe ;
These pay the loss of honors, and of place,
And teach that guilt alone is true disgrace;
These with the glorious exile cheerful rove,
And, far from courts, fresh bloom in Curio's
grove.

Long may such bliss, by such enjoy'd, attest,
The greatly virtuous are the greatly blest!
Enough there are amidst you gorgeous train,
Who, wretched, prove all other joys are vain.
So shines the truth these humble lhes un-
fold,

"Fair virtue ever is unwisely sold."
Too mean a price sublimest fortune brings,
Too mean the wealth, the smiles, the crowns of
kings:

For rais'd o'er these, she makes our bliss secure,
The
present pleasing, and the future sure.
While prosp'rous guilt a sad reverse appears,
And in the tasteless now, the future fears.

§ 155. Sonnets. EDWARDY. Young

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Wretched the man who toils ambition's slave ; Who pines for wealth, or sighs for empty fame;

Who rolls in pleasures which the mind deprave,

Bought with severe remorse, and guilty shame.

Virtue and knowledge be our better aim;

These help us Ill to bear, or teach to shun; Let Friendship cheer us with her gen'rous flame,

Friendship, the sum of all our joys in one: So shall we live each moment fate has giv'n; How long, or short, let us resign to heav'n.

§ 157. Immortality, or the Consolation of Human Life. A Monody.

I.

T. DENTON, A. M.

WHEN black-brow'd Night her dusky mantle spread,

And wrapt in solemn gloom the sable sky; When soothing Sleep her opiate dews had shed, And seal'd in silken slumbers every eye: My wakefal thoughts admit no balmy rest,

Nor the sweet bliss of soft oblivion share; But watchful woe distracts my aching breast, My heart the subject of correding care: From haunts of men with wand'ring steps and

slow

I solitary steal, and sooth my pensive woe.

II.

Yet no fell passion's rough discordant rage
Untun'd the music of my tranquil mind:
Ambition's tinselled charmis could ne'er engage,

No harbour there could sordid av'rice find:
From lusts foul spring my grief disdains to flow,
No sighs of envy from my bosom break,
But soft compassion melts my soul to woe,

And social tears fast trickle down my cheek;
Ah me! when nature gives one general groan,
| Each heart must beat with woe, each voice re-
sponsive mourn.

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Vid. Virg. Æn. lib. iii. ver. 210, et seq.

Ye

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And search creation's ample circuit round, Though modes of being change, all life's immortal found.

XVII.

See the slow reptile grov'ling o'er the green, That trails through slimy paths its cumbrous load,

Start in new beauty from the lowly scene, And wing with flutt'ring pride th' etherial road;

Burst their shell-prisons, see the feather'd kind, Where in dark durance pent awhile they lie, Dispread their painted plumage to the wind, Brush the brisk air, swift shooting through the sky,

Hail with their coral hymns the new-born day, Distend their joy-swoln breast, and carol the sweet lay.

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A rainbow formed by the rays of the moon at night; an object often visible, though from its fanguid color, not often observed,

Oft

Oft hast thou dropt unhurt thy mortal part,

XXV.

Dare the grim terror then, nor dread his guilt- When just expiring hangs life's trembling

less dart.

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light,

And fell disease strikes deep the deadly dart, Reason and mem'ry burn with ardor bright, And gen'rous passions warm the throbbing heart;

Oft will the vig'rous soul in life's last stage With keenest relish taste pure mental joys; Since the fierce efforts of distemper'd rage

Nor 'bates her vigor, nor her pow'rs de

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