And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes,
Her title to a treasure in the fkies.
Oh happy peasant! Oh unhappy bard!
His the mere tinfel, her's the rich reward;
He prais'd perhaps for ages yet to come,
She never heard of half a mile from home;
He loft in errors his vain heart prefers,
Not many wife, rich, noble, or profound
In science, win one inch of heav'nly ground;
And is it not a mortifying thought
The poor fhould gain it, and the rich should not?
No-the voluptuaries, who ne'er forget
One pleasure loft, lose heav'n without regret ; Regret would rouse them and give birth to pray'r,
Pray'r would add faith, and faith would fix them there.
Not that the Former of us all in this, Or aught he does, is govern'd by caprice, The fuppofition is replete with fin,
And bears the brand of blafphemy burnt in.
Not fo-the filver trumpet's heav'nly call,
Sounds for the poor, but founds alike for all ;
Kings are invited, and would kings obey,
No fláves on earth more welcome were than they:
But royalty, nobility, and state,
Are fuch a dead preponderating weight,
That endless blifs (how ftrange foe'er it seem) In counterpoife, flies up and kicks the beam. and ye cannot enter why?
Because ye will not, Conyers would reply
And he says much that many may dispute
And cavil at with ease, but none refute.
Oh blefs'd effect of penury and want,
The feed fown there, how vigorous is the plant!
No foil like poverty for growth divine,
As leaneft land fupplies the richest wine.
Earth gives too little, giving only bread,
To nourish pride or turn the weakest head:
To them, the founding jargon of the schools,
Seems what it is, a cap and bells for fools:
The light they walk by, kindled from above,
Shows them the shortest way to life and love:
They, ftrangers to the controverfial field,
Where deifts always foil'd, yet fcorn to yield,
And never check'd by what impedes the wife,
Believe, rush forward, and poffefs the prize.
Envy ye great the dull unletter'd small,
Ye have much caufe for envy-but not all;
We boast some rich ones whom the gospel sways,
And one that wears a coronet and prays;
Like gleanings of an olive tree they show,
Here and there one upon the topmost bough.
How readily upon the gospel plan,
That question has its answer-what is man?
Sinful and weak, in ev'ry sense a wretch,
An inftrument whofe chords upon the stretch
And ftrain'd to the last screw that he can bear,
Yield only difcord in his maker's ear:
Once the bleft refidence of truth divine,
Glorious as Solyma's interior shrine,
Where in his own oracular abode,
Dwelt vifibly the light-creating God;
But made long fince like Babylon of old,
A den of mischiefs never to be told :
And fhe, once miftrefs of the realms around,
Now fcatter'd wide and no where to be found,
As foon fhall rife and re-afcend the throne,
As nature at her own peculiar cost,
Restore to man the glories he has lost.
Go bid the winter cease to chill the year,
Replace the wand'ring comet in his sphere,
Then boast (but wait for that unhop'd-for hour)
The self-reftoring arm of human pow'r.
But what is man in his own proud efteem?
Hear him, himself the poet and the theme;
A monarch cloath'd with majesty and awe,
His mind his kingdom and his will his law,
Grace in his mien and glory in his eyes,
Supreme on earth and worthy of the fkies,
Strength in his heart, dominion in his nod,
And, thunderbolts excepted, quite a God.
So fings he, charm'd with his own mind and
The fong magnificent, the theme a worm :
Himself so much the fource of his delight,
His maker has no beauty in his fight:
See where he fits contemplative and fixt,
Pleasure and wonder in his features mixt,
His paffions tam'd and all at his controul,
How perfect the compofure of his foul !
Complacency has breath'd a gentle gale
O'er all his thoughts, and fwell'd his easy fail :
His books well trimm'd and in the gayeft ftile,
Like regimented coxcombs rank and file,
Adorn his intellects as well as fhelves,
And teach him notions fplendid as themselves:
The bible only ftands neglected there,
Though that of all moft worthy of his care,
And like an infant, troublesome awake,
Is left to fleep for peace and quiet fake.
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