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Absurd the wish of all men, if expreft ;
Each grieves that he's not lord of all the rest.
Why then should we complain, or thankless live,
Because not bleft with more than God can give?
Would

you

be safe from others ? 'tis but due,
That others also should be safe from you.
It is not virtue wakes the clam'rous throng ;
Each claims th' exclusive privilege, to wrong.
When ceaseless faction must embroil the mad;
Alike impatient, under A' or Zad.

How patriot Cromwell fights for liberty !
He shifts the yoke, then calls the nation free."
He cannot bear a monarch on the throne;
But vindicates his right--to rule alone.

Macheath roars out for freedom in his cell;
And Tindal wisely would extinguish hell.
Macheath's approv'd by all whom Tyburn awes,
Ard trembling guilt gives Tindal's page applause.
O fage device, to set the conscience free
From dread! he winks; then says that heav'n can't see.
Both blindly plan the paradise of fools;
Peace without laws, and virtue without rules.

Full of the Roman let the school-boy quote,
And rant all Lucian's rhapsodies by rote,
Gods! shall he tremble at a mortal's nod!
His generous foul disdains the tyrant's rod. .
Forc'd to submit, at last he tastes the fruit;
Finds wealth and honours blostom from its root.

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Would thy young foul be like the Roman free?
From Romans paint thy form of LIBERTY :
The goddess offers gifts from either hand;

Th' auspicious bonnet, with the Prætor's wand ;
The privilege of that would'st thou not miss,
Bend, and submit beneath the stroke of this,

See Furioso on his keeper frown,
Depriv'd the precious privilege to drown;
Greatly he claims a right to his undoing;
The chains that hold him, hold him from his ruin,
Kindly proceed; strict discipline dispense;
Till water-gruel low'rs him down to sense.

Why this to me? am I the froward boy,
Or knave to wrong, or madman to destroy ?"
Will thy denial prove

that thou art none ! "Tis Newgate's logick: thou art all in one. Blind to their good, to be instructed loth, d Men are but children of a larger growth; If no superior force the will controul, Self-love's a villain, and corrupts the foul ; Wild and destructive projects fire our brains ; We all are madmen, and demand our chains. Know your own sphere, content to be a man; Well pleas'd, to be as happy as you can: Lose not all good, by shunning ills in vain ; 'Tis wiser to enjoy than to complain.

In this manner they represent LIBERTY on their medals.
Priden in All for Love.

Some

Some evils must attend imperfect states ;
But discontent new worlds of ills creates.

Hush thy complaints, nor quarrel with thy God;
If just the struke, approve and kiss the rod.
By man if injur'd, turn thy eyes within;
Thou'lt find recorded some unpunish'd fin;
Then heav'n acquit : and with regard to man,
Coolly th' amount of good and evil scan;
If greater evils wait the wilh'd redress,
Grieve not that thou art free to chuse the less.

Unknown to courts, ambition's thirst subdu'd,
My leflon is to be obscurely good;
In life's still shade, which no man's envy draws,
• To reap the fruit of government and laws,
In fortune's round, as on the globe I know
No top, no bottom, no where high or low;
Where-ever station'd, heav'n in prospect ftill,
That points to me, the zenith of her wheel.

“ What! double tax'd, unpenfion'd, unprefer'd,
“ In such bad times be easy? most abfurd!'
Yet heav'n vouchsafes the daily bread intreated ;
And these bad times have left me free to eat it:
My taxes, gladly paid, their nature shift ;
If just, cheap purchase; if unjust, a gift:
Nor knows ambition any rank so great ;
My servants, kings, and ministers of state !

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Legum idcirco fervi fumus, ut liberi elle poffinus. Cıç.

They

They watch my couch, my humble roof defend;
Their toil the means, my happiness the end.

My freedom to compleat, convinc'd I fee
Thy service, Heav'n, is perfect LIBERTY.
The will, conform'd to thy celestial voice,
Knows no restraint! for duty is her choice :
What ills thou sendeft, thankfully approve,
As kind corrections, pledges of thy love ;
In every change, whatever stage I run,
My daily with succeeds ; THY WILL BE DONE.

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ROM horrid mountains ever hid in snow,

And barren lands, and dreary plains below;
To you, dear fir, my best regards I fend,
The weakest reasoner, as the truest friend.

Τα λόγω της επομήνες άξιον εσι μόνες ελευθέρας νομίζαν.

Plut, de Audit. Μόνοι γαρ ά ο βελεσθαι μαθόντες ως βάλονται ζώσι.

Ibid.

Your

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Your arguments, that vainly strive to please,
Your arts, your country, and your palaces ;
What figns of Roman grandeur ftill remain-
Much

you
have said;

and much have faid in vain. Fine pageants these for slaves, to please the eye; And put

the neatest dress on misery !
Bred up to llav'ry and dissembled pain,
Unhappy man! you trifle with your chain:
But should your friend with your desires comply,
And fell himself to Rome and flav'ry;
He could not wear his trammels with that art,
Or hide the noble anguish of his heart :
You'd soon repent the livery that you gave ;
For, trust me, I should make an aukward flave.

Falsely you blame our barren rocks and plains,
Happy in freedom and laborious fwains;
Our peasants chearful to the field repair,
And can enjoy the labours of the year;
Whilst
yours,

beneath fome tree, with mournful eyes,
Sees for his haughty lord his harvests rise :
Then filent fighs; but stops his Navish breath :
He filent fighs : for should he speak, 'tis death.
Hence from our field the lazy grain we call,
Too much for want, for luxury too small :
Whilst all Campania's rich inviting soil
Scarce knows the plowshare, or the reaper's toil.

In arms we breed our youth. To dart from far,
And aim aright the thunder of the war ;

To

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