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Her votaries? What avails from iron chains
Exempt, if rofy fetters bind as fast?

Beftir, and answer your creation's end.

Think we that man, with vig'rous pow'r endow'd
And room to ftretch, was deftin'd to fit fill ?
Sluggards are Nature's rebels, flight her laws,
Nor live up to the terms on which they hold
Their vital leafe. Laborious terms and hard;
But fuch the tenure of our earthly state!
Riches and fame are Industry's reward;
The nimble runner courses Fortune down,
And then he banquets, for the feeds the bold.
Think what you owe your country, what yourself.
If fplendor charm not, yet avoid the scorn
That treads on lowly ftations. Think of fome
Affiduous booby mounting o'er your head,
And thence with faucy grandeur looking down:
Think of (Reflection's ftab !) the pitying friend
With fhoulder fhrugg'd and sorry. Think that Times
Has golden minutes, if discreetly feiz'd:

And if fome fad example, indolent,

To warn and scare be wanting-think of me.

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ELEGY TO A YOUNG NOBLEMAN LEAVING THE UNIVERSITY.

ERE yet, ingenuous Youth! thy steps retire

From Cam's smooth margin, and the peaceful vale,
Where Science call'd thee to her studious quire,

And met thee mufing in her cloyfters pale;
O! let thy friend (and may he boast the name)
Breathe from his artless reed one parting lay!
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A lay

A lay like this thy carly virtues claim,

And this let voluntary Friendfhip pay.
Yet know, the time arrives, the dangerous time,
When all thofe Virtues, opening now so fair,
Tranfplanted to the world's tempestuous clime,
Muft learn each Paffion's boift'rous breath to bear.
There if Ambition, peftilent and pale,

Or Luxury should taint their vernal glow:
If cold Self-intereft, with her chilling gale,
Should blaft th' unfolding bloffoms ere they blow;
If mimic hues, by Art, or Fashion spread,

Their genuine, fimple colouring should supply!
O! with them may thefe laureat honours fade;
And with them. (if it can). my Friendship die.
-And do not blame, if, tho' thyself inspire,
Cautious I ftrike the panegyric ftring;
'The Mufe full oft purfues a meteor fire,

And vainly vent'rous, foars on waxen wing.
Too actively awake at Friendship's voice.
The poet's bofom pours the fervent strain,
Till fad Reflection blames the hafty choice,
And oft invokes Oblivion's aid in vain.
Go then, my Friend! nor let thy candid breaft
Condemn me, if I check the plaufive string:
Go to the wayward world; complete the reit:
Be, what the pureft Mufe wou'd wish to fing.
Be fill thyfelf; that open path of Truth,
Which led thee here, let Manhood firm pursue;
Retain the fweet fimplicity of Youth,

And all thy virtue dictates, dare to do.

Still fcorn, with confcicus pride, the mask of Art!
On Vice's front let fearful Caution lour,

And

And teach the diffident, difcreeter part

Of knaves that plot, and fools that fawn for pow'r. So, round thy brow when Age's honours spread, When Death's cold hand unftrings thy MASON's lyre, When the green turf lies lightly on his head, Thy worth fhall fome fuperior bard infpire: He to the ampleft bounds of Time's domain, On Rapture's plume shall give thy name to fly; For truft, with rev'rence truft this Sabian ftrain; "The Mufe forbids the virtuous Man to die.”

MASON.

CHAP. XXI.

ON THE MISERIES OF HUMAN LIFE.

AH little think the gay licentious proud,
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Whom pleasure, power, and affluence furround;
They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, ›
And wanton, often cruel, riot waste !

Ah little think they, while they dance along,
How many feel, this very moment, death,
And all the fad variety of pain!
How many fink in the devouring flood,
Or more devouring flame: how many bleed,
By fhameful variance betwixt Man and Man :
How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms;
Shut from the common air, and common use
Of their own limbs: How many drink the cup
Of baleful Grief, or eat the bitter bread

Of Mifery: fore pierc'd by wint'ry winds,
How
many
fhrink into the fordid hut
Of cheerlefs Poverty; how many fhake

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With all the fiercer tortures of the mind,

Unbounded paffion, madnefs, guilt, remorse:

Whence, tumbling headlong from the height of life,
They furnish matter for the Tragic Muse:

Even in the vale, where Wisdom loves to dwell,
With Friendship, Peace, and Contemplation join'd,
How many rack'd, with honeft paffions, droop,
In deep retir'd diftrefs: how many stand
Around the death bed of their dearest friends,
And point the parting anguish !--Thought fond man
Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills,
That one inceffant struggle render life
One fcene of toil, of fuffering, and of fate,
Vice in his high career would ftand appall'd,
And heedlefs rambling Impulfe learn to think :
The conscious heart of Charity would warm,
And her wide with Benevolence dilate ;
'The focial tear would rise, the social figh;
And into clear perfection, gradual blifs,
Refining ftill, the focial paffions work.

THOMSON..

CHAP. XXII.

REFLECTIONS ON A FUTURE STATE.

"TIS done!-dread WINTER fpreads his lateft glooms,

And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year,

How dead the vegetable kingdom lies!

How dumb the tuneful! horror wide extends

His defolate domain. Behold, fond Man!

See here thy pictur'd life; pafs fome few years:

Thy flow'ring Spring, thy Summer's ardent ftrength,

Thy

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Thy fober Autumn fading into age,

And pale concluding Winter comes at last,
And fhuts the fcene. Ah! whither now are fled
Thofe dreams of greatness? thofe unfolid hopes
Of happiness? thofe longings after fame?
Those restless cares? those busy bustling days?
Thofe gay-fpent feftive nights? thofe veering thought
Loft between good and ill, that shar'd thy life?
All now are vanish'd! VIRTUE fole survives,
Immortal never-failing friend of Man,
His guide to happiness on high-And see !
'Tis come, the glorious morn! the fecond birth
Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears.
The new-creating word, and starts to life,
In every heighten'd form, from pain and death
For ever free. The great eternal scheme
Involving all, and in a perfect whole
Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads,
To Reason's eye refin'd clears up apace.
Ye vainly wife! ye blind prefumptuous! now,
Confounded, in the duft, adore that PowER,
And WISDOM oft arraign'd: fee now the caufe,
Why unaffuming worth in fecret liv'd,

And dy'd neglected! why the good man's fhare.
In life was gall and bitterness of foul!

Why the lone widow, and her orphans, pin’d
`In starving folitude, while Luxury

In palaces lay ftraining her low thought

To form unreal wants! why heav'n-born Truth,

And Moderation fair, wore the red marks

Of Superftition's fcourge! why licens'd Pain,
That cruel spoiler, that embofom'd foe,

Imbitter'd

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