And Woolfey's pride (his greatest guilt)
And what great William fince has built;
And flowing faft by Richmond scenes,
(Honour'd retreat of two great queens)
From Sion-boufe, whofe proud furvey
Brow-beats your flood, look cross the way,
And view, from highest swell of tide,
The milder scenes of Surry fide.

Though yet no palace grace the fhore,
To lodge that pair you shou'd adore;
Nor abbies, great in ruin, rise,
Royal equivalents for vice;

Behold a Grott, in Delphic grove,
The Graces' and the Mufes' love.
(O might our laureat study here,
How would he hail his new-born year!)
A temple from vain glories free,

Whose goddess is Philosophy,

Whose fides fuch licens'd idols crown
As fuperftition wou'd pull down;
The only pilgrimage I know

That men of fense wou'd chufe to go:
Which sweet abode, her wifeft choice,
Urania chears with heavenly voice,
While all the Virtues gather round,
To fee her confecrate the ground.
If thou the God with winged feet,
In council talk of this retreat,

And

And jealous gods refentment fhow
At altars rais'd to men below

Tell those proud lords of heaven, 'tis fit
Their house our heroes fhould admit ;
While each exifts, as poets fing,
A lazy lewd immortal thing,
They muft (or grow in difrepute)
With earth's firft commoners recruit.
Needlefs it is in terms unskill'd

To praise whatever Boyle fhall build ;
Needlefs it is the bufts to name
Of men, monopolifts of fame;
Four chiefs adorn the modest stone,
For virtue as for learning known;
The thinking fculpture helps to raise
Deep thoughts, the genii of the place :
To the mind's ear, and inward fight,
Their filence speaks, and fhade gives light:
While infects from the threshold preach,
And minds difpos'd to mufing teach:
Proud of ftrong limbs and painted hues,
They perish by the slightest bruise;
Or maladies begun within,

Destroy more flow life's frail machine;

From maggot-youth thro' change of ftate
They feel like us the turns of Fate;
Some born to creep have liv'd to fly,
And change earth-cells for dwellings high;
VOL. V.

L

And

And fome that did their fix wings keep,
Before they dy'd been forc'd to creep.
They politics like ours profess,

The greater prey upon the lefs :
Some ftrain on foot huge loads to bring;
Some toil inceffant on the wing;
And in their different ways explore
Wife fenfe of want by future ftore;
Nor from their vigorous schemes defift
Till death, and then are never mist.
Some frolick, toil, marry, increase,
Are fick and well, have war and peace,
And broke with age, in half a day
Yield to fucceffors, and away.

Let not profane this facred place,
Hyprocrify with Janus' face;

Or pomp, mixt state of pride and care;
Court kindness, Falfhood's polish'd ware;
Scandal disguis'd in Friendship's veil,
That tells, unafk'd, th' injurious tale;
Or art politic, which allows
The jefuit-remedy for vows;
Or priest, perfuming crowned head,
Till in a fwoon Truth lies for dead;
Or tawdry critic, who perceives

No grace, which plain proportion gives,
And more than lineaments divine
Admires the gilding of the shrine;

Of

Or that felf-haunting spectre Spleen,
In thickest fog the clearest feen;
Or Prophecy, which dreams a lie,
That fools believe and knaves apply;
Or frolick Mirth profanely loud,
And happy only in a crowd;
Or Melancholy's penfive gloom,
Proxy in Contemplation's room.

O Delia, when I touch this ftring,
To thee my Muse directs her wing.
Unfpotted fair, with downcaft look
Mind not fo much the murm'ring brook ;
Nor fixt in thought, with footsteps flow
Through cypress allies cherish woe:
I fee the foul in penfive fit,

And mopeing like fick linnet fit,
With dewy eye and moulting wing,
Unperch'd, averse to fly or fing;
I see the favourite curls begin
(Difus'd to toilet discipline,)

To quit their post, lose their smart air,
And grow again like common hair;
And tears, which frequent kerchiefs dry,
Raife a red circle round the eye;
And by this bur about the moon,
Conjecture more ill weather foon.
Love not fo much the doleful knell;
And news the boding night-birds tell;

Nor watch the wainscot's hollow blow;
And hens portentous when they crow;
Nor fleepless mind the death-watch beat;
In taper find no winding sheet;

Nor in burnt coal a coffin fee,

Tho' thrown at others meant for thee:
Or when the corufcation gleams,

Find out not first the bloody streams; .
Nor in impreft remembrance keep
Grim tap'ftry figures wrought in sleep;
Nor rise to see in antique hall
The moon-light monfters on the wall,
And fhadowy spectres darkly pass
Trailing their fables o'er the grass.
Let vice and guilt act how they please
In fouls, their conquer'd provinces ;
By heaven's juft charter it appears,
Virtue's exempt from quartering fears.
Shall then arm'd fancies fiercely dreft,
Live at difcretion in your breast ?
Be wife, and pannic fright difdain,
As notions, meteors of the brain;
And fighs perform'd, illufive scene!
By magic lanthorn of the spleen.
Come here, from baleful cares releas'd,
With Virtue's ticket, to a feast,
Where decent mirth and wisdom join'd
In stewardship, regale the mind.

Call