XXV.

Can the deep Statesman, skill'd in great design,
Protract but for a day precarious breath?
Or the tun'd foll'wer of the sacred Nine
Sooth with his melody insatiate Death?

XXVI.

No.---Tho' the palace bar her golden gate,
Or monarchs plant ten thousand guards around,
Unerring and unseen, the shaft of Fate
Strikes the devoted victim to the ground.

XXVII.

What then avails Ambition's wide-stretch'd wing, The Schoolman's page, or pride of Beauty's bloom? The crape-clad hermit and the rich-rob'd king, Levell'd, lie mix'd promisc'ous in the tomb.

XXVIII.

The Macedonian monarch, wise and good,
Bad, when the Morning's rosy reign began,
Courtiers should call---as round his couch they stood,
"Philip! remember thou'rt no more than man!,

XXIX.

"Tho' Glory spread thy name from pole to pole;
"Tho' thou art merciful, and brave, and just;
"Philip, reflect thou 'rt posting to the goal
"Where mortals mix in undist.nguish'd dust!"

Xxx.

So Saladin, for arts and arms renown'd, "
(Egypt and Syria's wide domains cubdu'd)

Returning with imperial triumphs crown'd,
Sigh'd when the perishable pomp he view'd:
XXX

And as he rode high in, is regal car,

In all the purple pride of Conquest drest, Conspicuous o'er the trophies gain'd in war, Plac'd pendent on a spear his burial vest;

XXXII.

While thus the herald cry'd--- This son of Pow'I, "This Saladin, to whom the nations bow'd, May in the space of one revolving hour

66

"Boast of no other spoil but yonder shroud!"
XXXIII.

Search where Ambition rag'd, with rigour steel'd, .
Where Slaughter like the rapid lightning ran,
And say, while Mem'ry weeps the blood-stain'd field,
Where lies the chief, and where the common man?

XXXIV.

Vain then are pyramids and motto'd stones,

And monumental trophies rais'd on high; For Time confounds them with the crumbling bones That mix'd in hasty graves unnotic'd lie.

XXXV.

Rests not beneath the turf the peasant's head
Scft as the lord's beneath the labour'd tomb?
Or sleeps one colder in his close clay-bed

Than th' other in the wide vault's dreary womb?

XXXVI.

Hither let Lux'ry lead her loose-rob'd train,
Here flutter Pride on purple-painted wings,
And from the moral prospect learn---how vain
The wish that sighs for sublunary things!

FORTUNE:

AN APOLOGUE.

Fabula nariatur.

HOR.

I.

Jove and his senators, in sage debatę

For man's felicity, were settling laws, When a rude roar, that shook the sacred gate, Turn'd their attention to enquire the cause.

II.

A long-ear'd wretch, the loudest of his race,
In the rough garniture of Grief array'd,
Came brawling to the high imperial place;
"Let me have justice, Jupiter!"---he bray'd.

III.

"I am an ass, of innocence allow'd

"The type, yet Fortune persecutes me still; "While foxes, wolves, and all the murd'ring crowd, "Beneath her patronage can rob and kill.

IV.

"The pamper'd horse (he never toil'd so hard)
"Favour and friendship from his owner finds:
"For endless diligence---(a rough reward!)
"I'm cudgell'd by a race of paltry hinds.

V.

"On wretched provender compell'd to feed,
"The rugged pavement ev'ry night my bed!
"For me Dame Fortune never yet decreed

"The gracious comforts of a well-thatch'd shed.

VI.

"Rough and unseemly is my irrev'rent hide!
"Where can I visit, thus uncouthly drest?
"That outside elegance the Dame deny'd
"For which her fav'rites are too oft carest.

VII.

"To suff'ring virtue, sacred Jove! be kind;
"From Fortune's tyranny pronounce me free:
"She's a deceiver, if she says she's blind;
"She sees, propitiously sees, all---but me.”

VIII.

The plaintiff could articulate no more;

His bosom heav'd a most tremendous groan!. The race of long-ear'd wretches join'd the roar, Till Jove seem'd tott'ring on his high-built throne.

IX.

The monarch with an all-commanding sound

(Deepen'd like thunder thro' the rounds of space)

Gave order---that Dame Fortune should be found
To answer, as she might, the plaintiff's case.

X.

Soldiers and citizens, a seemly train!

And lawyers and physicians, sought her cell,

With many a schoolman---but their search was vain; Few can the residence of Fortune tell.

XI.

Where the wretch Avarice was wont to hide
His gold, his emeralds, and rubies rare,
'Twas rumour'd that Dame Fortune did reside,
And Jove's ambassadors were posted there.

XII.

Meagre and wan, in tatter'd garments drest,
A feeble porter at the gate they found,
Doubled with wretchedness---with age distrest,
And on his wrinkled forehead Famine frown'd,
XIII.

"Mortals, avaunt!" the trembling spectre cries,
"Ere you invade those sacred haunts beware!
"To guard Lord Avarice from rude surprise
"I am the centinel---my name is Care.

XIV.

"Doubts, Disappointments, Anarchy of Mind, "These are the soldiers that surround his hall, "And ev'ry Fury that can lash mankind,

"Rage, Rancour, and Revenge, attend his call.