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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 make thy 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 hole to parts; but human soul

Must rise from individual to the whole.

Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,

As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake,
The center mov'd, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads;

Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace;

His country next; and next all human race;
Wide and more wide, th'o'erflowings of the mind
Take ev'ry creature in, of ev'ry kind;
Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest,
And heav'n beholds its image in his breast.

Come then, my friend! my genius! come along,
Oh master of the poet, and the song!
And while the muse now stoops, or now ascends,
To man's low passions, or their glorious ends,
Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise,

To fall with dignity, with temper rise ;
Form’d by thy converse, happily to steer

grave gay, from lively to severe; Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease, Intent to reason, or polite to please.



Oh! while along the stream of time thy name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame;

Say, shall

my little bark attendant sail,

Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale?

When statesmen, heroes, kings, in dust repose, Whose sons shall blush their fathers were thy foes, Shall then this verse to future age pretend

Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend? That, urg'd by thee, I turn’d the tuneful art From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart; For wit's false mirror held up nature's light;

Shew'd erring pride, whatever is---is RIGHT;
That reason, passion, answer one great aim ;
That true self-love and social are the same;
That virtųe only makes our bliss below;
And all our knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW.



Deo opt. max.

Father of All! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord !

Thou Great First Cause, least understood :

Who all my sense confin'd

To know but this, that thou art good,

And that myself am blind;

Yet gave me in this dark estate,

To see the good from ill;

And binding nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do,

This teach me more than hell to shun,

That, more than heav'n pursue. What blessings thy free bounty gives,

Let me not cast away;


For God is paid when: man receives:

T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span

Thy goodness let me bound,

Or think thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand worlds are round.

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