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Behold the market-place with poor o'erspread!
The MAN of Ross divides the weekly bread;
He feeds yon alms-houfe, neat, but void of state,
Where Age and Want fit fmiling at the gate :
Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans bleft,
The young who labour and the old who reft.
Is any fick The MAN of Ross relieves,
Prescribes, attends, the med'cine makes, and gives.
Is there a variance? Enter but his door,
Balk'd are the courts, and conteft is no more;
Despairing quacks with curfes fled the place,
And vile attornies, now a ufelefs race.
Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue
What all fo wifh, but want the power to do!
Oh! fay what fums that generous hand supply
What mines, to swell that boundless charity ?
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear,
This man poffefs'd-five hundred pounds a-year.
Blush, Grandeur, blush! proud Courts withdraw your blaze!
Ye little ftars! hide your diminish'd rays.

And what! no monument, inscription, stone?
His race, his form, his name almost unknown!
Who builds a church to God, and not to fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name:
Go fearch it there, where to be born and die,
Of rich and poor makes all the history;
Enough, that Virtue fill'd the space between ;
Prov'd by the ends of being to have been.

POPE.

СНАР,

CHAP. V.

NEAR

THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN.

EAR yonder copfe, where once the garden fmil'd,
And still where many a garden-flower grows wild;
There, where a few torn fhrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modeft manfion rofe.
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And paffing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor e'er had chang'd, nor wifh'd to change his place;
Unpractic'd he to fawn or feek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, '
More skill'd to raise the wretched than to rife.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain.
The long remember'd beggar was his gueft,
Whofe beard defcending fwept his aged breaft;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken foldier, kindly bade to flay;
Sat by his fire and talk'd the night away;

Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of forrow done,

Shoulder'd his crutch, and fhew'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guefts, the good man learn'd to glow,

And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave, e'er charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings lean'd to Virtue's fide;

But

But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies;
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Befide the bed where parting life was laid,
And forrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The reverend champion stood. At his controul,
Defpair and anguish fled the ftruggling foul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his laft falt'ring accents whisper'd praife.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace;
"His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools who came to fcoff remain❜d to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;
E'en children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to fhare the good man's fmile;
His ready fmile a parent's warmth expreft,

Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares diftreft;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were giv'n,
But all his ferious thoughts had reft in heav'n.
As fome tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale and midway leaves the ftorm,
Tho' round its breaft the rolling clouds are fpread,
Eternal funfhine fettles on its head.

GOLDSMITH.

СНАР.

CHAP. VI.

THE WISH.

CONTENTMENT, parent of delight,

So much a stranger to our fight,
Say, goddefs, in what happy place,
Mortals behold thy blooming face;
Thy gracious aufpices impart,
And for thy temple choose my heart.
They whom thou deigneft to infpire,
Thy fcience learn, to bound defire;
By happy alchmy of mind

They turn to pleasure all they find,
They both difdain in outward mien
The grave and folemn garb of fpleen,
And meritricious arts of dress,

To feign a joy and hide distress:

Unmov'd when the rude tempeft blows,
Without an opiate they repose;

And cover'd by your shield defy

The whizzing fhafts, that round them fly:
Nor meddling with the gods' affairs,
Concern themselves with distant cares;
But place their bliss in mental rest,
And feast upon the good poffefs'd.
Forc'd by foft violence of pray'r
The blithfome goddess soothes my care;
I feel the deity inspire,

And thus fhe models my defire.

Two hundred pounds, half-yearly paid,
Annuity fecurely made,

A farm

A farm fome twenty miles from town,
Small, tight, falubrious, and my own;
Two maids that never faw the town,
A ferving-man, not quite a clown;
A boy to help to tread the mow,
And drive while t'other holds the plough;
A chief of temper form'd to please,
Fit to converfe and keep the keys;
And better to preserve the peace
Commiffion'd by the name of niece;
With understandings of a fize
To think their mafter very wife.
May Heav'n (it's all I wish for) fend
One genial room to treat a friend,
Where decent cup-board, little plate,
Display benevolence, not state.
And may my humble dwelling stand
Upon fome chosen spot of land;
A pond before, full to the brim,

Where cows may cool, and geefe may fwim ;
Behind, a green like velvet neat,
Soft to the eye, and to the feet;
Where od❜rous plants in evening fair
Breathe all around ambrofial air;
From Eurus, foe to kitchen ground,
Fenc'd by a slope with bushes crown'd;
Fit dwelling for the feather'd throng,
Who pay their quit-rents with a fong;
With op'ning views of hill and dale,
Which fenfe and fancy too regale,
Where the half-cirque, which vifion bounds,
Like amphitheatre furrounds;

And

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