In rapid order roll:

Example makes the mischief good :
With jocund heel we beat the road,
Unheedful of the goal.

Me let* Ithuriel's friendly wing

Snatch from the crowd, and bear fublime
To wisdom's lofty tower,
Thence to furvey that wretched thing,
Mankind; and in exalted rhyme

Bless the delivering power.

To the Reverend Mr. JOHN HOWE.

GREAT man, permit the Mufe to climb

And feat her at thy feet,

Bid her attempt a thought fublime,

And confecrate her wit.

I feel, I feel th' attractive force

Of thy fuperior foul:

My chariot flies her upward course,

The wheels divinely roll.

Now let me chide the mean affairs

And mighty toil of men :

How they grow grey in trifling cares,

Or waste the motions of the fpheres

1704.

Upon delights as vain

A puff

*The name of an angel in Milton's Paradife Loft.

A puff of honour fills the mind,
And yellow duft is folid good;
Thus, like the afs of favage kind,
We fnuff the breezes of the wind,
Or fteal the ferpent's food.
Could all the choirs

That charm the poles

But ftrike one doleful found,

'Twould be employ'd to mourn our fouls, Souls that were fram'd of fprightly fires In floods of folly drown'd.

Souls made of glory feek a brutal joy;
How they difclaim their heavenly birth,
Melt their bright fubftance down with droffy earth,
And hate to be refin'd from that impure alloy.

Oft has thy genius rouz'd us hence

With elevated fong,

Bid us renounce this world of fense,

Bid us divide th' immortal prize

With the feraphic throng:

"Knowledge and love makes fpirits bleft,

Knowledge their food, and love their reft;" But flesh, th' unmanageable beast,

Refifts the pity of thine eyes,

And mufic of thy tongue.

Then let the worms of groveling mind
Round the fhort joys of earthly kind

In restless windings roam;

Howe hath an ample orb of soul,

Where fhining worlds of knowledge roll,
Where love, the centre and the pole,
Compleats the heaven at home.

The DISAPPOINTMENT and RELIEF

VIRTUE, permit my fancy to impose

Upon my better powers :

She cafts fweet fallacies on half our woes,
And gilds the gloomy hours.

How could we bear this tedious round
Of waning moons, and rolling years,

Of flaming hopes, and chilling fears,
If (where no fovereign cure appears)
No opiates could be found.

Love, the most cordial ftream that flows,

Is a deceitful good:

Young Doris, who nor guilt nor danger knows,
On the green margin stood,

Pleas'd with the golden bubbles as they rose,

And with more golden fands her fancy pav'd the flood:
Then fond to be entirely bleft,

And tempted by a faithlefs youth,
As void of goodness as of truth,
She plunges in with heedless haste,

And rears the nether mud:

Darkness

Darkness and naufeous dregs arise

O'er thy fair current, love, with large fupplies

Of pain to teaze the heart, and forrow for the eyes. The golden blifs that charm'd her fight

Is dafh'd, and drown'd, and loft:
A fpark, or glimmering ftreak at most,
Shines here and there, amidst the night,
Amidst the turbid waves, and gives a faint delight.

Recover'd from the fad furprize,
Doris awakes at laft,

Grown by the difappointment wife ;
And manages with art th' unlucky caft;
When the lowering frown she spies
On her haughty tyrant's brow,
With humble love the meets his wrathful eyes,
And makes her fovereign beauty bow;
Chearful the fmiles upon the grizly form ;
So fhines the fetting fun on adverse skies,
And paints a rainbow on the ftorm.
Anon fhe lets the fullen humour spend,
And with a virtuous book, or friend,
Beguiles th' uneafy hours:
Well-colouring every cross the meets,
With heart fere ne fhe fleeps and eats,
She fpreads her board with fancy'd fweets,
And ftrows her bed with flowers.

The Hero's School of Morality.

THERON, amongft his travels, found,
A broken statue on the ground

And fearching onward as he went
He trac'd a ruin'd monument.

Mould, mofs, and fhades, had overgrown
'The fculpture of the crumbling ftone,
Yet e'er he paft, with much ado,

He guefs'd, and fpell'd out, SCI-PI-O.

66

Enough, he cry'd ; 'll drudge no more

"In turning the dull Stoics o'er;

"Let pedants wafte their hours of ease "To fweat all night at Socrates;

"And feed their boys, with notes and rules, "Those tedious Recipe's of fchools, "To cure ambition: I can learn "With greater eafe the great concern "Of mortals; how we may despise "All the gay things below the skies.

"Methinks a mouldering pyramid "Says all that the old fages faid; "For me thefe fhatter'd tombs contain "More morals, than the Vatican. "The duft of heroes caft abroad,

"And kick'd, and trampled in the road,