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His honeft pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He loft his friends; his practice fail'd;
Truth fhould not always be reveal'd:"
In dufty piles his pictures lay,
For no one fent the second pay.

Two butto's, fraught with ev'ry grace,
A Venus' and Apollo's face,"

He plac'd in view: refolv'd to please,
Whoever fat, he drew from thefe;
From thefe corrected ev'ry feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.

All things were fet; the hour was come,
His pallet ready o'er his thumb:
My Lord appear'd, and, feated right
In proper attitude and light,

The painter look'd, he fketch'd the piece;
Then dipt his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air-
"Thofe eyes, my Lord, the fpirit tliere
Might well a Raphael's hand require,
To give them all the native fire:
The features fraught with fenfe and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit ;
But yet, with patience, you shall view
As much as paint or art can do".
Obferve the work." My Lord reply'd,
"Till now I thought my mouth was wide;
Befides, my nofe is fomewhat long;
Dear Sir, for me, 'tis far too young."
"O, pardon me" the artist cry'd,
"In this we painters must decide.
The piece ev'n common eyes must strike;
I warrant it extremely like."

My Lord examin'd it anew-
No looking-glafs feem'd half fo true.
A lady came. With borrow'd grace
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the painter's art,
So like the picture in his heart.!
To ev'ry age fome charm he lent;
Ey'n beauties were almoft content.

Through

Through all the town his art they prais'd,
His cuftom grew, his price was rais'd.
Had he the real likenefs fhown,
Would any man the picture own?
But when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.

VI. Diversity in the Human Character
VIRTUOUS and vicious ev'ry man must be,
Few in th' extreme, but all in the degree;
The rogue and fool by fits are fair and wife,
And ev❜n the beft, by fits, what they defpife.
'Tis but by parts we follow good or ill,
For, Vice or Virtue, Self directs it ftill:
Each individual feeks a fev'ral goal;'

But Heav'n's great view is One, and that the Whole-
That counter works each folly and caprice;
That difappoints th' effect of ev'ry vice:
That happy frailties to all ranks apply'd
Shame to the virgin, to the marron pride,
Fear to the statesman, rashness to the chief,
To kings prefumption, and to crowds belief.
That Virtue's ends from Vanity can raife,
Which feeks no int'reft, no reward but praife;
And build on wants, and on defects of mind,
The joy, the peace, the glory of mankind.

Heaven forming each on other to' depend,
A master, or a fervant, or a friend,
Bids each on other for affistance call,

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Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
Wants, frailties, paffions, clofer ftill ally
The common int'reft, or endear the tie.
To thefe we owe true friendship, love fincere,
Each home-felt joy that life inherits here:
Yet, from the fame, we learn, in its decline,
Thofe joys, thofe loves, thofe int'refts to refign:
Taught half by reafon, half by mere decay,
To welcome death, and cahrly pafs away.

Whate'er the paffion, knowledge, fame, or pelf,
Not one will change his neighbour with himself.
The learn'd is happy nature to explore,
The fool is happy that he knows no more;

The

The rich is happy in the plenty given,

The poor contents him with the care of Heav'n
See the blind beggar dance, the cripple fing,
The fot a hero, lunatic a king,

The starving chymift in his golden views
Supremely bleft, the poet in his muse.

See fome strange comfort ev'ry itate attend
And Pride bestow'd on all, a common friend;
See fome fit Paffion ev'ry age fupply,

Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a fraw:
Some livelier play thing gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite :

Scarfs, garters, gold, amufe his riper stage;
And cards and counters are the toys of age:
Pleas'd with this bauble ftill, as that before;
Till tir'd he fleeps, and Life's poor play is o'er!
Mean while Opinion gilds with varying rays
Those painted clouds that beautify our days;
Each want of happiness by Hope supply'd,
And each vacuity of fenfe by Pride.

Thefe build as faft as knowledge can destroy;
In Folly's cup ftill laughs the bubble, joy:
One profpect loft, another ftill we gain;
And not a vanity is giv❜n in vain;

Ev'n mean felf-love becomes, by force divine,
The feale to measure others' wants by thine.
See! and confefs one comfort ftill mult rife ;
'Tis this: Though Man's a fool, yet God is wife.
VII. The Toilet.

AND, now, unveil'd, the toilet ftands difplay'd,
Each filver vafe in myftic order laid.
Fieft, rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores,
With head uncover'd, the cofmetic pow'rs,
A heav'nly image in the glafs appears :
To that the bends, to that her eye fhe rears."
Th' inferiour prieftefs, at the altar's fide,
Trembling, begins the facred rites of pride.
Unumber'd treafures ope at once, and here
The various offrings of the world appear:

From

From each, fhe nicely culls with curious toil,
And decks the goddefs with the glitt'ring fpoil.
This cafket India's glowing gems unlocks,
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.
The tortoife, here, and elephant, unite,
Transform'd to combs, the fpeckled and the white.
Here files of pins extend their fhining rows,
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux.
Now awful beauty puts on all its arms;
The fair, each moment, rifes in her charms,
Repairs her, fmiles, awakens ev'ry grace,
And calls forth all the wonders of her face.

VIII. The Hermit.

FAR in a wild, unknown to public view,

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From youth to age, a rev'rend hermit grew.
The mofs his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the cryftal well:
Remote from man, with God he pais'd the days;
Pray'r all his bufinefs, all his pleature praife.

A life fo facred, fuch ferene repole,
Seem'd heav'n itfelf, 'till one fuggeftion.rofe
That vice fhould triumph, virtue vice obey:
This fprung fome doubt of Providence's fway.
His hopes no more a certain profpect boast,
And all the tenour of his foul is loft.

So, when a fmooth expanfe receives, impreft,
Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast,

Down bend the banks; the trees, depending, grow;
And skies, beneath, with anfwering colours glow:
But if a ftone the gentle fea divide,

Swift ruffling circles curl on every

fide

And glimm'ring fragments of a broken fun,
Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run.

To clear this doubt; to know the world by fight;
To find if books or fwains report it right;
(For yet by fwains alone the world he knew,
Whole feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew}
He quits his cell; the pilgrim-ftaff he bore,
And fix'd the fcallop in his hat before :
Then, with the fun, a rifing journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

The

The morn was wafted in the pathlefs grafs, And long and lonesome was the wild to pafs; But, when the fouthern fun had warm'd the day, A youth came pofting o'er a croffing way; His raiment decent, his complexion fair, And, foft, in graceful ringlets, wav'd his hair. Then, near approaching, Father, hail! he cried; And, Hail, my fon! the rev'rend fire reply'd : Words follow'd words; from queftion anfwer flow'd; And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road; Till each with other pleas'd and loath to part, While in their age they differ, join in heart. Thus ftands an aged elm in ivy bound ; Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.

Now funk the fun: the closing hour of day
Came onward, mantled o'er with fober gray:
Nature, in filence, bid the world repofe;
When, near the road, a stately palace rofe :
There, by the moon, through ranks of trees they pafs,
Whose verdure crown'd their floping fides of grass.
It chanced the noble master of the dome

Still made his houfe the wand'ring ftranger's home:
Yet, ftill, the kindness, from a thirst of praise,
Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease.
The pair arrive; the liv'ry'd fervants wait;
Their lord receives them at the pompous gate:
The table groans with coftly piles of food;
And all is more than hofpitably good.

Then, led to reft, the day's long toil they drown,
Deep funk in fleep, and filk, and heaps of down.
At length 'tis morn; and, at the dawn of day,
Along the wide canals the zephyrs play;
Frefh, o'er the gay parterres, the breezes creep,
And thake the neighbouring wood, to banish fleep.
Up rife the guests, obedient to the call;
An early banquet deck'd the fplendid hall;
Rich Aufcious wine a golden goblet graced,
Which the kind mafter forced the guests to tafte.
Then, pleas'd, and thankful, from the porch they go;
And, but the landlord, none had caufe of woe-
His cup was vanifh'd; for, in fecret guife,
The younger gueft purloin'd the glittring prize.
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