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Slave to no sect, who takes no.private road,
But looks through Nature, up to Nature's God:
Pursues that Chain which links th' immense design.
Joins heav'n and earth, and mortal and divine;
Sees, that no Being any bliss can know,
But touches some above, and some below;
Learns, from this union of the rising Whole,
The first, last purpose of the human soul;
And knows where Faith, Law, Morals, all began,
All end, in Love Of God, and Love Of Man.
For him alone, Hope leads from goal to goal.
And opens still, and opens on his soul;
'Till lengthen'd on to Faith, and unconfin'd,
It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.
He sees, why Nature plants in Man alone
Hope of known bliss, and Faith in bliss unknown:
(Nature, whose dictates to no other kind.
Are giv'n in vain, but what they seek they find)
Wise is, her present; she connects in this,
His greatest Virtue with his greatest Bliss;
At once his own bright prospect to be blest,
And strongest motive to assist the rest.
Self-love thus push'd to social, to divine, Gives thee to makethy neighbour's blessing thine' Is this too little for the boundless heart? Extend it, let thy enemies have part: Grasp the whole worlds of Reason, Life, and Sense, In one close system of Benevolence: Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree,. And height of bliss but height of charity.
God loves from whole to parts: but human soul Must rise from individual io the whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake; The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads; Friend, parent, ntighbour, first it will embrace; His country next; and next all human race; Wide and more wide, th' o'erflowings of the mind Take ev'iy creature in, of ev'ry kind; Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest, And Heav'n beholds its image ui his breast.
Characters are given according to the ItAsk ef
Examples bfthe Strength of the Ruling Passion in the Hour of Death.
"Odious! in woollen! 'twould a saint provoke,"
(Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke)
"No, let a charming chintz, and Brussels lace,
"Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face:
"One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead—
"And—Betty—give this cheek a little red."
The courtier smooth, who forty years had shin'd
"I give and I devise (old Euclio said,
And you, brave Cobham 1 to the latest breath
Advice to the Fair Sex.
Ah! friend! to dazzle let the vain design;
Oh! blest with temper, whose unclouded ray
The Man of Ross.
But all our praises why should lords engross?
He feeds yon alms-house, neat, but void of state.
Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear,
And what! no monument, inscription, stone?
Who builds a church to God, and not to fame.
But most by numbers judge a poet's song;
And smooth or rough, with them, is right or wrong:
In the bright muse tho' thousand charms conspire.
Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire;
Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear,
Not mend their minds; as some to church repair,
Not for the doctrine, but the music there.
These equal syllables alone require,
Tho' oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid do join;
And ten low words oft creep in one dull line:
While they ring round the same unvary'd chimes,
With sure returns of still-expected rhymes;
Where'er you find " the cooling western breeze,"
In the next line, it " whispers thro' the trees:"
If crystal streams ".with pleasing murmurs creep,"
The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "sleep:"
Then, at the last and only couplet, fraught
With some unmeaning thing they call a thought,
A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
Leave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and know
What's roundly smooth, or languishingly slow;
And praise the easy vigour of a line,
Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join.
True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have leam'd to dance.
'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence,
The sound must seem an echo to the sense:
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows:
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar:
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
Tha line too labours, and the words move slow;
Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Hear how Timotheus' vary'd lays surprise,
And bid alternate passions fall and rise!
While, at each change, the son «f Lybian Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow,
Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow:
Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found,
And the world's victor stood subdu'd by sound!
The pow'r of music all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now.
The Parting 0/" Hector and Andromache.
(POPE'S HOMER'S ILIAD.)
Hector, this heard, return'd without delay;