At ftill confiding, ftill confounded, Man:.
Confiding, tho' confounded; hoping on,
Untaught by Trial, unconvinc'd by Proof,
And Ever looking for the Never seen.
Life, to the laft, like harden'd Felons, lyes;
Nor owns itself a Cheat, till It expires:
Its little Joys go out by One, and One;

And leave poor Man, at length, in perfect Night ;-
Night darker, than what, now, involves the Pole..
O THOU, who doft permit these Ills to fall,
For gracious Ends, and wouldft, that Man fhould

mourn!

O THOU, whofe Hand this goodly Fabric fram'd, Who know'ft it beft, and wouldft, that Man fhould

know!

What is this fublunary World? A Vapour;
A Vapour, all it holds; Itfelf a Vapour ;
From the damp Bed of Chaos, by Thy Beam-
Exhal'd, ordain'd to swim its deftin'd Hour,
In ambient Air, then melt, and difappear;
Earth's Days are numbred, nor remote her Doom
As Mortal, tho' lefs Tranfient, than her Sons;
Yet they doat on her, as the World, and They,
Were both Eternal, Solid; THOυ, a Dream.

THEY doat, on What? Immortal Views apart,
A Region of Outfides! a Land of Shadows!
A fruitful Field of flow'ry Promises!
A Wilderness for Joys! perplext with Doubts,
And sharp with Thorns! A troubled Ocean, spread-
With bold Adventurers, their All on Board;
No fecond Hope, if here their Fortune frowns;
Frown foon it muft: Of various Rates they fail,
Of Enfigns various; All alike in This,

All reftlefs, anxious; toft with Hopes, and Fears,
In calmest Skies; obnoxious All to Storm ;

And stormy the most general Blast of Life:

All

All bound for Happiness; yet Few provide
The Chart of Knowledge, pointing where It lies;
Or Virtue's Helm, to fhape the Courfe defign'd:
All, more or lefs, capricious Fate lament,
Now lifted by the Tide, and now reforb'd,
And farther from their Wishes, than before;
All, more or lefs, against each other dash,
To mutual Hurt, by Gufts of Paffion driv'n,
And fuffering more from Folly, than from Fate.'
Ocean! Thou dreadful, and tumultuous Home
Of Dangers, at eternal War with Man!
Death's Capital! where most he domineers,
With all his chofen Terrors frowning round,
(Tho lately feafted high at * Albion's Coft)
Wide-op'ning, and loud-roaring ftill for more!
Too faithful Mirror! how doft thou reflect,
The melancholy Face of human Life!
The ftrong Refemblance tempts me farther still:
And, haply, Britain may be deeper ftruck
By moral Truth, in fuch a Mirror feen,
Which Nature holds for ever at her Eye.

SELF-flatter'd, unexperienc'd, high in Hope,
When Young, with fanguine Cheer, and Streamers gay,
We cut our Cable, launch into the World,

And fondly dream each Wind, and Star, our Friend
All, in fome darling Enterprize embarkt;

But where is he can fathom its Event?
Amid a Multitude of artlefs Hands,
Ruin's fure Perquifite! her lawful Prize !

Some steer aright; but the black Blast blows hard,
And puffs them wide of Hope: With Hearts of Proof,
Full against Wind, and Tide, fome win their Way;
And when strong Effort has deferv'd the Port,
And tugg'd it into View, 'tis won! 'tis loft!

Tho' ftrong their Oar, ftill ftronger is their Fate,

* Admiral Balchen, &c.
K 4

They

They Strike; and while they Triumph, they Expire
In Strefs of Weather, Moft; Some fink outright;
O'er them, and o'er their Names the Billows close;
To-morrow knows not they were ever Born :
Others a fhort Memorial leave behind;
Like a Flag floating, when the Bark's ingulph'd,
It floats a Moment, and is feen no more:
One Cafar lives, a Thousand are forgot.
How Few, beneath aufpicious Planets born,
Darlings of Providence! fond Fate's Elect!
With fwelling Sails make good the promis'd Port,
With all their Wishes freighted? Yet even These,
Freighted with all their Wishes, foon complain;
Free from Misfortune, not from Nature free,
They ftill are Men; and when is Man fecure?
As fatal Time, as Storm! the Rufh of Years
Beats down their Strength; their numberless Escapes
In Ruin end: And, now, their proud Success
But plants new Terrors on the Victor's Brow:
What Pain to quit the World, juft made their own,
Their Neft fo deeply down'd, and built fo high?
Too low they build, who build beneath the Stars.
• Woɛ then apart (if Woe apart can be
From mortal Man), and Fortune at our Nod,
The Gay! Rich! Great! Triumphant! and Auguft!
What are they?—The most happy (strange to say !)
Convince me most of human Misery :

What are they? Smiling Wretches of To-morrow!
More wretched, then, than e'er their Slave can be ;
Their treach'rous Bleffings, at the Day of Need,
Like other faithlefs Friends, unmask, and fting:
Then, what provoking Indigence in Wealth?
What aggravated Impotence in Pow'r ?
High Titles, then, what Infult of their Pain
If that fole Anchor, equal to the Waves,
Immortal Hope! defies not the rude Storm,

Takes

3

Takes Comfort from the foaming Billows' Rage,
And makes a welcome Harbour of the Tomb.

THIS is a Sketch of what thy Soul admires :
"But, here (thou fayft), the Miseries of Life
"Are huddled in a Group."-A more distinct
Survey, perhaps, might bring thee better News:
Look on Life's Stages; they fpeak plainer still;
The plainer They, the deeper wilt Thou figh:
Look on thy lovely Boy; in him behold
The Best that can befal the Best on Earth;
The Boy has Virtue by his Mother's Side:
Yes, on Florello look; a Father's Heart
Is tender, tho' the Man's is made of Stone;
The Truth, through fuch a Medium seen, may mak❤
Impreffion deep, and Fondness prove thy Friend.
Florello lately caft on this rude Coast,

A helpless Infant; now, a heedless Child;
To poor Clariffa's Throes, thy Care fucceeds;
Care full of Love, and yet severe as Hate:
O'er thy Soul's Joy how oft thy Fondness frowns
Needful Aufterities his Will reftrain ;

As Thorns fence in the tender Plant from Harm,
As yet, his Reason cannot go alone,

But asks a fterner Nurse to lead it on:

His little Heart is often terrify'd ;‹

The Blush of Morning, in his Cheek, turns pale;
Its pearly Dew-drop trembles in his Eye;
His harmless Eye! and drowns an Angel there :-
Ah! what avails his Innocence? The Tafk
Injoin'd, muft difcipline his early Pow'rs ;
He learns to figh, ere he has known to fin;
Guiltless, and fad! A Wretch before the Fall!!
How cruel this! More cruel to forbear.
Our Nature fuch, with necessary Pains,
We purchase Prospects of precarious Peace :
Tho' not a Father, This might fteal a Sigh.

K5

SUPPOSE

SUPPOSE him disciplin'd aright (if not,
"Twill fink our poor Account to poorer ftill):
Ripe from the Tutor, proud of Liberty,
He leaps Inclosure, bounds into the World;
The World is taken, after Ten Years Toil,
Like ancient Troy; and all its Joys his own:
Alas! the World's a Tutor more fevere;
Its Leffons hard, and ill deserve his Pains;
Unteaching All his virtuous Nature taught,
Or Books (fair Virtue's Advocates!) infpir'd..
FOR who receives him into public Life?
Men of the World! the Terræ filial Breed!
Welcome the modeft Stranger to their Sphere
(Which glitter'd long, at Distance, in his Sight),
And, in their hospitable Arms, inclose:

fo

Men, who think nought so strong of the Romance,
So rank Knight-errant, as a Real Friend;
Men, that act up to Reafon's Golden Rule,
All Weakness of Affection quite subdu’d:
Men, that would blufh at being thought fincere,
And feign, for Glory, the few Faults they want;
That love a Lye, where Truth would pay as well;
As if, to Them, Vice fhone her own Reward.

Lorenzo! canft thon bear a fhocking Sight?
Such, for Florello's fake, 'twill now appear;
See, the fteel'd Files of feafon'd Veterans,
Train'd to the World, in burnifht Falfhood bright;
Deep in the fatal Stratagems of Peace ;

All foft Senfation, in the Throng, rubb'd off;
All their keen Purpose, in Politenefs, fheath'd!
His Friends eternal-during Interest ;

His Foes implacable,-when worth their While,
At War with ev'ry Welfare, but their own;
As Wife as Lucifer'; and half as Good;
And by whom, none, but Lucifer, can gain-
Naked, through Thefe (fo common Fate ordains),

Naked