The man who by his labour gets His bread, in independent state, Who never begs, and seldom eats, Himself can fix, or change his fate. The Old Gentry. Smile on the work, be to her merits kind, Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart, The Thief and the Cordelier. A Ballad. Who breathes must suffer; and who thinks, must mourn; Solomon on the Vanity of the World. Nobles and heralds by your leave, Here lies what once was Matthew Prior; * "The Royal Mischief," a Tragedy, was written by Mrs. Manley, authoress of "The Lost Lover," and other plays, all unknown on the modern stage. This ballad does not appear in all editions of Prior's works. It is quoted here from a 12mo edition, entitled, "Poems on several occasions by the late Matthew Prior, Esq., London. Printed for J. and R. Tonson and S. Draper and H. Lintot, 1754." The son of Adam and of Eve, Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher? Epitaph on Himself. To John I owed great obligation; To publish it to all the nation; Sure John and 1 are more than quit. An Epigram. Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes. Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'ring world. Lines 18-20. The bell strikes one. We take no note of time Is wise in man. And can eternity belong to me, Lines 55-57 Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour. Lines 66, 67. Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain ! * Night 1. Lines 212, 213. Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer ; Lines 390-396. At thirty, man suspects himself a fool, Lines 417-424. Who does the best his circumstance allows, * Alluding to three deaths in his own family, which had occurred within a short time of each other. P The man who consecrates his hours By vig'rous effort and an honest aim, At once he draws the sting of life and death; Time flies, death urges, knells call, Lines 291, 292. Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay; Night III. Lines 104-106. Man wants but little, nor that little long :* Night iv. Lines 118-120. A God all mercy is a God unjust. Line 234. 'Tis impious in a good man to be sad. Line 676. "Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." See Quotations from Goldsmith. |