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Unfold this sacred truth to Reason's eye,
Yes, Friend ! let'noble deeds, and noble aims,
Are dropt to dust away,
To future times, “ we were !"
But with its firm foundation laid
Superior to the surge's shock.
Of time ! no, that's a period too confin'd
Which o'er the barrier leaps of added years,
When the loud clarion's dreadful roll
Shall Virtue see her honours shine ; Shall see them blazing round the sacred shrine
Of blest Eternity
CLODIO IN PRISON.
BY PETER PINDAR.
CLODIO, thy ruin is complete
Fairly art thou, my friend, done up. Princes have done this pretty feat ;
And, easy smiling, see thee sup, And sleep, and breakfast too, and dine With good DUKE HUMPHRY, Duke of PHA
That is to say-exceeding lean,
Ragged, unwholesome, yea, unclean ! And in a jail, where sunk-eyed INANITION, Quite chop-fall’n, damns the folly of AMBITION.
Still, ʼmidst thy poverty and rags,
Thou makest to the jail thy brags; And pleas’d, of Princes tellest many a story;
And fanciest, that when thou art dead,
A spendor will surround thy headEv'n só!-that thou shalt lie along in GLORY!
Vain Youth !--now prithee cast thine eye On that poor spendor-hunting Fly,
Sporting around thy taper's blaze:--How blest, the buzzing Insect sings, Catching the radiance on his wings !
How fascinated with the rays !
A minute will decide his fate :
Nearer, and nearer, round he flies ; Still nearer, nearer-how elate !
There ends existence-hark ! his cries !
Down drops the wretch amidst the fire-
Such is the Fly's, and such thy story;
Sing, heavenly Muse,
HAPPY the man, who, void of cares and strife,
* Two notąd alehouses in Oxford, 1700.