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Yet every child another song will sing, • Virtue, brave boys ! 'tis virtue makes a king.' True, conscious honour is to feel no sin; He's arm’d without that's innocent within : Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass ; Compar'd to this a minister's an ass.
And say, to which shall our applause belong, -This new court jargon, or the good old song? The modern language of corrupted peers, Or what was spoke at Cressy and Poitiers ? Who counsels best? who whispers, ‘Be but great, With praise or infamy leave that to fate; Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace; If not, by any means get wealth and place.' For what? to have a box where eunuchs sing, And foremost in the circle eye a king. Or he who bids thee face with steady view Proud fortune, and look shallow greatness through, And, while he bids thee, sets th' example too? If such a doctrine, in St. James's air, Should chance to make the well dress'd rabble stare; If honest S**z take scandal at a spark That less admires the palace than the park ; Faith, I shall give the answer Reynard gave:
I cannot like, dread sir! your royal cave; Because I see, by all the tracks about, Full many a beast goes in, but none come out.' Adieu to virtue, if you're once a slave : Send her to court, you send her to her grave.
Well, if a king's a lion, at the least
The people are a many headed beast;
Of all these ways, if each pursues his own,
mean, But give the knight (or give his lady) spleen; * Away, away! take all your scaffolds down, For snug's the word : my dear! we'll live in town.'
At amorous Flavio is the stocking thrown? That very night he longs to lie alone.
The fool whose wife elopes some thrice a quarter,
You laugh, half beau, half sloven, if I stand,
That man divine whom wisdom calls her own ;
THE SIXTH EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK
TO MR. MURRAY.
• Not to admire, is all the art I know, To make men happy, and to keep them so.'. (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 through, and trust the Ruler with his skies;
To him commit the hour, the day, the year, | And view this dreadful all—without a fear.
" Afterwards Lord Mansfield.
Admire we then what earth's low.entrails hold, Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold; All the mad trade of fools and slaves for gold ? Or popularity ? or stars and strings ? The mob's applauses, 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 same the curse, Surpris'd at better, or surpris'd at worse. Thus good or bad, to one extreme betray Th' unbalanc'd mind, and snatch the man 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 surprise, And gaze on Parian charms with learned eyes; Be struck with bright brocade or Tyrian dye, Our birthday nobles' splendid 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, foș a noble wife ? Shall one whom nature, learning, birth, conspir'd
Plod gaze of ith bright splendi