SATIRE II. ΤΟ Mr. BE THE L. WHAT, and how great, the virtue and the art To live on little with a chearful heart; (A doctrine fage, but truly none of mine) Hear Bethel's fermon, one not vers'd in fchools, If then plain bread and milk will do the feat, Because God made these large, the other lefs. He calls for fomething bitter, fomething four, The robin-red-breaft till of late had reft, To one that was, or would have been, a peer. 'Tis yet in vain, I own, to keep a pother But on fome lucky day (as when they found A loft bank-bill, or heard their fon was drown'd) Is what two fouls fo gen'rous cannot bear: He knows to live, who keeps the middle state, Now hear what bleffings temperance can bring : (Thus faid our friend, and what he said I fing. ) First health : the stomach ( cramm'd from ev'ry dish, A tomb of boil'd and roaft, and flesh and fish, Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, And all the man is one inteftine war) Remembers oft the school-boy's fimple fare, The temp'rate fleeps, and spirits light as air. How pale, each worshipful and rev'rend guest Rife from a clergy, or a city feast! What life in all that ample body, say? What heav'nly particle inspires the clay? The foul fubfides, and wickedly inclines To feem but mortal, ev'n in found divines. On morning wings how active springs the mind That leaves the load of yesterday behind! How eafy ev'ry labour it pursues! How coming to the poet ev'ry Mufe! Not but we may exceed, fome holy time, B$ |