The florid hue of Temperance, her fide
Adorn'd by Health, a nymph in blooming pride.
Lo, foft-ey'd Meekness holds a curbing rein,
Anger's high-mettled fpirit to restrain:
While Moral Order tunes her golden lyre,
And white-rob'd Probity compleats the choir.
O fairest of all fair! O blissful fate!
What hopes fublime our ravish'd foul dilate!
Subftantial hopes, if by the doctrine taught,
The fashion'd manners are to habit wrought.
Yes, 'tis refolv'd. We'll every nerve employ.
Live, then, reftor'd; and reap the promis'd joy.
But whither do the Virtues lead their trust?
To Happiness, rewarder of the juft.
Look upward to the hill beyond the grove,
A fovereign pile extends its front above:
Stately and strong, the lofty caftle stands,
Its boundless prospect all the courts commands.
Within the porch, high on a jasper throne,
Th' Imperial Mother by her form is known;
Bright as the morn, when fmiling on the hills
Earth, air, and fea with vernal joy the fills.
Rich without lavish cost her veft behold
In colours of the sky, and fring'd with gold:
A tiar, wreath'd with every flow'r that blows
Of livelieft tints, around her temples glows:
Eternal bloom her fijowy temples binds,
Fearless of burning funs and blafting winds.
H 2
Now, with a crown of wond'rous pow'r, her hand
(Assistant, round her, all the Virtues ftand)
Adorns her hero, honourable meed
Of conquefts won by many a valiant deed.
Formidable beafts fubdu'd:
Lab'ring he fought, he routed, he pursu'd.
Once, a weak prey, beneath their force he cowr'd,
O'erthrown, and worry'd, and well-nigh devour'd:
Till rouz'd from his inglorious floth, poffeft
With generous ardour kindling in his breast,
Lord of himself, the victor now constrains
Those hoftile monfters in his pow'rful chains.
Explain thofe favage beafs at war with man.
Error and Ignorance, which head the van,
Heart-gnawing Grief, and loud-lamenting Woe,
Incontinence, a wild-deftroying foe,
Rapacious Avarice; cruel numbers more:
O'er all he triumphs now, their flave before.
O great atchievements! more illuftrious far
Thefe triumphs, than the bloody wreaths of war.
But, fay; what falutary pow'r is fhed
By the fair crown, which decks the hero's head?
Moft beatific. For poffeffing this
He lives, rich owner of man's proper blifs:
Blifs independent or on wealth or pow'r,
Fame, birth, or beauty, or voluptuous hour.
His hope's divorc'd from all exterior things,
Within himself the fount of pleasure springs;
Springs ever in the felf-approving breaft,
And his own honeft heart's a conftant feaft.
He measures back his way,
Conducted by the Virtues, to furvey
His firft abode. The giddy crowd, below,
Wafting their wretched fpan in crime, they fhow;
How in the whirl of paffions they are toft,
And, fhipwreck'd on the lurking fhelves, are loft:
Here fierce Ambition haling in her chain
The mighty, there a despicable train
Impure in Luft's inglorious fetter bound,
And flaves of Avarice rooting up the ground:
Thralls of Vain-glory, thralls of fwelling Pride,
Unnumber'd fools, unnumber'd plagues befide.
All-pow'rlefs they to burft the galling band,
To spring aloft, and reach yon happy land,
Entangled, impotent the way to find,
The clear inftruction blotted from their mind
Which the Good Genius gave; Guilt's gloomy fears
Becloud their funs and fadden all their
I ftand convinc'd, but yet perplex'd in thought Why to review a well-known fcene he's brought. Scene rudely knowh. Uncertain and confus'd, His judgment by illufions was abus'd.
His evil was not evil, nor his good
Aught elfe but vanity mifundeftood.
Confounding good and evil, like the throng,
His life, like theirs, was action always wrong.
Enlighten'd now in the true blifs of man,
He fhapes his alter'd course by Wisdom's plan:
And, bleft himself, beholds with weeping eyes
The madding world an hospital of fighs.
This retrospection ended, where fucceeds
His courfe?
Where'er his wife volition leads.
Where'er it leads, fafety attends him still:
Not fafer, fhould he on Apollo's hill,
Among the Nymphs, among the vocal Pow'rs,
Dwell in the Sanctum of Corycian bow'rs :
Honour'd by all, the friend of human kind,
Belov'd physician of the fin-fick mind;
Not Efculapius more, whofe pow'r to fave
Redeems his patient from the yawning grave.
But never more fhall his old restless foes
Awake his fears, nor trouble his repofe?
In righteous habitude inur'd,
From Paflion's baneful anarchy fecur'd,
In each enticing fcene, each inftant hard,
That fovereign antidote his mind will guard:
Like him, who, of fome virtuous drug poffeft,
Grafps the fell viper coil'd within her neft,
Hears her dire hiflings, fees her terrors rife,
And, unappall'd, deftruction's tooth defies.
Yon troops in motion from the mount explain,
Various to view; for there a goodly train,
With garlands crown'd, advance with comely pace,
Noble their port, and in each tranquil face
Joy Sparkles: others, a bare-headed throng,
Batter'd and gafh'd, drag their flow steps along,
Captives of feme ftrange female crew.
Long feeking, fafe arriv'd at Wisdom's bound,
Exult in her imparted grace. "The reft,
Thofe on whom Wifdem, unprevailing, preft`
Her healing aid; rejected from her care,
In evil plight their wicked days they wear:
Those too, who Difficulty's hill had gain'd,
There bafely stopp'd, by daftard floth detain'd:
Apoftate now, in thorny wilds they rove,
Pursuing furies fcourge the caitiff drove;
Sorrows which gnaw, remorseful Thoughts which tear,
Blindness of mind, and heart-oppreffing Fear,
With all the contumelious rout of Shame,
Unblushing at themfelves, but drunk with fpleen,
Wisdom's high worth their canker'd tongues difpraise,
Revile her children, and blafpheme her ways.
|