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But when no Prelate's Lawn with hair-Shirt lin'd,
Is half fo incoherent as my Mind,
(When each opinion with the next at strife,
One ebb and Aow of Follies all my life)
I plant, root up; I build, and then confound;
Turn round to square, and square again to round;
You never change one muscle of your face,
You think this madness but a common cafe,
Nor once to Chanc'ry, nor to Hale apply;
Yet hang your lip, to see a Seam awry !
Careless how ill I with myself agree,
Kind to my dress, my figure, not to Me.
Is this my Guide, Philosopher, and Friend?
This he, who loves me, and who ought to mend;
Who ought to make me (what he can, or none)
That Man divine whom Wisdom calls her own;
Great without title, without Fortune bless’d;

Rich even when plunder'd, honour'd while oppress’d; : Lov’d without youth, and follow'd without power;

At home tho' exild; free, tho' in the Tower:
In short, that reas’ning, high, immortal Thing,
Just less than Jove, and much above a King,
Nay, half in heaven---except (what's mighty odd)
A fit of Vapours cloud this Demi-God?

Vol. III.

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JOT to admire, is all the Art I know,

To make men happy, and to keep them fo." (Plain Truth, dear MURRAY, needs no flowers of speech, So take it in the very words of Creech.)

This Vault of Air, this congregated Ball,
Self-center'd Sun, and Stars that rise and fall,
There are, my friend whose philosophic eyes
Look thro', and trust the Ruler with his skies,
To him commit the hour, the day, the year,
And view this dreadful All without a fear.

Admire we then what Earth's low entrails hold,
Arabian Thores, or Indian seas infold;
All the mad trade of Fools and Slaves for Gold?

Or Popularity? or Stars and Strings?
'The Mob's applaufes, or the gifts of Kings?
Say with what 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 desire,
In either case, believe me, we admire;
Whether we joy or grieve, the fame the curse,
Surpriz'd at better, or surpriz'd at worfe,
Thus good or bad, to one extreme betray
Th’unbalanc'd mind, and snatch the Map away;
For Virtue's self may too much zeal be had;
The worst of Madmen is a Saint run mad.
Go then, and if you can, admire the state
Of beaming diamonds, and reflected plate;
Procure a Taste to double the surprize,
And gaze on Parian charms with learned eyes :
Be struck with bright Brocade, or Tyrian Dye,
Our Birth-day Nobles' fplendid Livery.
If not so pleas'd, at Council-board rejoice,
To see their Judgments hang upon thy Voice;
From 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 Fame, for Riches, for a noble Wife ?
Shall One whom Nature, Learning, Birth conspir'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 degrades 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 Power of Words,
So known, so honour'd at the house of Lords :
Conspicuous Scene! another yet is nigh,
(More filent far) where Kings and poets lie;
Where MURRAY (long enough his country's pride)
Shall be no more than Tully, or than Hyde!,

Rack'd with Sciatics, martyr'd with the stone,
Will'any mortal let himself alone ?
See Ward by batter'a Beaus invited over,
And desperate Misery lays hold on Dover.
The case is easier in the Mind's disease;
There all men may he cur'd, whene'er they please.
Would you be blest! despise low Joys, low Gains;
Disdain whatever CorNBURY disdains;
Be virtuous, and be happy for your pains.

But art thou one, whom new opinions sway, One who believes as Tindal leads the way, Who Virtue and a Church alike disowns, Thinks that but words, and this but brick and stones? Fly then, on all the wings of wild desire, Admire whate'er the maddest can admire : Is wealth thy passion ? Hence! from Pole to Pole, Where winds can carry, or where waves can roll, For Indian spices, for Peruvian Gold, Prevent the greedy, or out-bid the bold': Advance thy golden Mountain to the skies : On the broad base of fifty thousand rise,

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