You laugh, if coat and breeches strangely vary,
White gloves, and linen worthy Lady Mary!

But when no Prelate's Lawn with hair-fhirt lin'd,
Is half fo incoherent as my Mind,

When (each opinion with the next at strife,

One s ebb and flow of Follies all my life)

166

It plant, root up; I build, and then confound;

Turn round to fquare, and square again to round;
"You never change one mufcle of your face,
You think this Madness but a common cafe,
Nor w once to Chanc'ry, nor to Hale apply;
Yet hang your lip, to fee a Seam awry!
Careless how ill I with my felf agree,

Kind to my dress, my figure, not to Me.

X

Is this my x Guide, Philofopher and Friend?

This he, who loves me, and who ought to mend;
Who ought to make me (what he can, or none,)

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175

That Man divine whom Wifdom calls her own; 180 Great without Title, without Fortune bless'd;

Rich ev'n when plunder'd, z honour'd while opprefs'd;

Occurro; rides. fi forte fubucula pexae

Trita fubeft tunicae, vel fi toga diffidet impar;
Rides. quid, mea cum pugnat fententia secum;
Quod petiit, fpernit; repetit quod nuper omifit ;

S

Aeftuat, et vitae difconvenit ordine toto;

Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis ?
" Infanire putas folennia me, neque rides,
Nec medici credis, nec curatoris egere
A praetore dati; rerum * tutela mearum
Cum fis, et prave fectum ftomacheris ob unguem,
De te pendentis, te refpicientis amici.

Lov'da without youth, and follow'd without power;
At home tho' exil'd; b free, tho' in the Tower;
In short, that reas'ning, high, immortal Thing; 185
Juft lefs than Jove, and d much above a King,
Nay, half in heav'n- except (what's mighty odd)
A fit of Vapours clouds this Demy-God?

b

y

Ad fummam, fapiens uno minor eft Jove, dives, z Liber, a honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum; Praecipue fanus, d nifi cum pituita molesta est.

THE

Sixth Epiftle of the First Book

O F

HOR A CE;

To Mr MURRAY.

OT to admire, is all the Art I know,

"N To make men happy, and to keep them fo."

(Plain Truth, dear MURRAY, needs no flow'rs of

fpeech,

So take it in the very words of Creech.)

This Vault of Air, this congregated Ball, Self-center'd Sun, and Stars that rife and fall, There are, my Friend! whofe philofophic eyes Look thro', and truft the Ruler with his fkies, To him commit the hour, the day, the year, And view this dreadful All without a fear.

NIL admirari, prope res eft una, Numici,
Solaque quae poffit facere et fervare beatum.
b Hunc folem, et ftellas, et decidentia certis
Tempora momentis, funt qui e formidine nulla.

Admire we then what d Earth's low entrails hold,

Arabian fhores, or Indian feas infold;

All the mad trade of Fools and Slaves for Gold!
Or f Popularity? or Stars and Strings ?
The Mob's applauses, or the gifts of Kings?
Say with what 8 eyes we ought at Courts to gaze,
And
pay the Great our homage of Amaze?

If weak the pleasure that from these can spring, The fear to want them is as weak a thing: Whether we dread, or whether we defire,

In either cafe, believe me, we admire ;

Whether we i joy or grieve, the same the curse,
Surpriz'd at better, or furpriz'd at worse.

Thus good or bad, to one extreme betray
Th' unbalanc'd Mind, and fnatch the Man away:
Fork Virtue's felf may too much zeal be had
The worst of Madmen is a Saint run mad.
'Go then, and if you can, admire the state

Imbuti fpectent. quid cenfes, munera terrae ?
Quid, maris extremos Arabas editantis et Indos?
Ludicra, quid, f plaufus, et amici dona Quiritis?
Quo fpectanda modo & quo fenfu credis et ore?

15

20

26

h Qui timet his adverfa, fere miratur eodem Quo cupiens pacto: pavor eft utrobique moleftus: Improvifa finul fpecies exterret utrumque: iGaudeat, an doleat; cupiat, metuatne; quid ad rem, Si quidquid videt melius pejufve fua fpe, Defixis oculis animoque et corpore torpet?

* Infani fapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui; Ultra quain fatis eft, virtutem fi petat ipsum.

I nunc, argentum et marmerm vetus aeraque et artes

Of beaming diamonds, and reflected plate;
Procure a TASTE to double the surprise,

And

m Parian Charms with learned eyes :

gaze on Be ftruck with bright Brocade, or Tyrian Dye,

n

Our Birth-day nobles' fplendid Livery.

If not fo pleas'd, at Council-board rejoice,
To fee their Judgments hang upon thy Voice;
From P morn to night, at Senate, Rolls, and Hall,
Plead much, read more, dine late, or not at all.
But wherefore all this labour, all this strife?
For 9 Fame, for Riches, for a noble Wife ?

30

35

41

Shall One whom Nature, Learning, Birth confpir'd
To form, not to admire but be admir'd,
Sigh, while his Chloe blind to Wit and Worth
Weds the rich Dulness of fome Son of earth?
Yet Time ennobles, or degradès each Line;
It brighten'd CRAGGS's, and may darken thine:
And what is Fame? the Meanest have their day,
The Greatest can but blaze, and pass away.
Grac'd as thou art, with all the Pow'r of Words,
So known, fo honour'd, at the House of Lords:
VOL. II.

С с

Sufpice: cum gemmis n Tyrios mirare colores:
Gaude, quod fpectant oculi te mille loquentem :
Gnavus P mane forum, et vefpertinus pete tectum ;
9 Ne plus frumenti dotalibus emetat agris
Mutus et (indignum; quod fit pejoribus ortus)
Hic tibi fit potius, quam tu mirabilis illi.
$Quicquid fub terra eft, in apricum proferet aetas ;
Defodiet condetque nitentia. cum bene notum
Porticus Agrippae, et via te conípexerit Appi

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