Thy Genius hungers, elegantly pain’d;

And foreign Climes must cater for thy Taste.
Hence, what Difafter?-Tho' the Price was paid,
That perfecuting Prieft, the Turk of Rome,

Whofe Foot (ye Gods!), tho' cloven, must be kiss'd,
Detain'd thy Dinner, on the Latian Shore ;
(Such is the Fate of honest Protestants !)
And poor Magnificence is ftarv'd to Death.
Hence, just Refentment, Indignation, Ire!-
Be pacify'd; if outward Things are Great,
"Tis Magnanimity Great Things to scorn;
Pompous Expences, and Parades august,
And Courts; that infalubrious Soil to Peace.
True Happiness ne'er enter'd at an Eye;
True Happiness refides in Things unfeen:
No Smiles of Fortune ever bleft the Bad,
Nor can her Frowns rob Innocence of Joys;
That Jewel wanting, Triple Crowns are poor;
So tell his Holiness, and be Reveng'd.

PLEASURE, we both agree, is Man's chief Good; Our only Contest, What deferves the Name.

Give Pleasure's Name to nought, but what has pafs'd
Th' authentic Seal of Reafon, (which, like YORK,
Demurrs on what it paffes) and defies

The Tooth of Time; when pass'd, a Pleasure still;
Dearer on Trial, Lovelier for its Age,

And doubly to be priz'd, as it promotes

Our Future, while it forms our Prefent, Joy.

Some Joys the Future overcaft; and fome

Throw all their Beams that Way, and gild the Tomb:
Some Joys endear Eternity; fome give
Abhorr'd Annihilation dreadful Charms.
Are rival Joys contending for thy Choice!
Confult thy whole Exiftence, and be safe;
That Oracle will put all Doubt to Flight.

Short is the Lefson, tho' my Lecture long,
Be Good-and let Heav'n answer for the rest.

YET, with a Sigh o'er all Mankind, I grant,
In this our Day of Proof, our Land of Hope,
The Good Man has his Clouds that intervene ;
Clouds, that obfcure his fublunary Day,
But never conquer: Ev'n the Best must own,
Patience, and Refignation, are the Pillars

Of human Peace on Earth. The Pillars, Thefe;
But thofe of SETH not more remote from Thee,
Till this Heroick Leffon thou haft learnt;
To frown at Pleasure, and to fmile in Pain,
Fir'd at the Profpect of unclouded Blifs.
Heav'n, in Reverfion, like the Sun, as yet
Beneath th' Horizon, chears us in this World;
It sheds, on Souls fufceptible of Light,
The glorious Dawn of our Eternal Day.

"THIS (fays LORENZO) is a fair Harangue;

"But can Harangues blow back ftrong Nature's "Stream?

"Or ftem the Tide Heav'n pushes thro' our Veins, "Which sweeps away Man's impotent Refolves, "And lays his Labour level with the World?"

THEMSELVES Men make their Comment on Mankind;

And think nought is, but what they find at Home:
Thus, Weaknefs to Chimæras turns the Wise.
Nothing romantic has the Muse prescrib'd.
*Above, LORENZO faw the Man of Earth,
The Mortal Man; and wretched was the Sight:
To balance That, to comfort, and exalt,
Now fee the Man Immortal: Him, I mean,

Who lives as Such; whofe Heart, full-bent on Heav'n,
Leans all that Way, his Bias to the Stars:

*In a former Night.

The

The World's dark Shades, in Contraft fet, fhall raise
His Luftre more; tho' Bright, without a Foil:
Obferve his awful Portrait, and admire;
Nor ftop at Wonder; Imitate, and Live.

SOME Angel guide my Pencil, while I draw,
What nothing less than Angel can exceed,
A Man on Earth devoted to the Skies,
Like Ships in Seas, while in, above, the World.
WITH Afpect mild, and elevated Eye,
Behold him feated on a Mount ferené,

Above the Fogs of Senfe, and Paffion's Storm;
All the black Cares, and Tumults, of This Life,
Like harmless Thunders, breaking at his Feet,
Excite his Pity, not impair his Peace:

Earth's genuine Sons, the Sceptred, and the Slave,
A mingled Mob! a wandring Herd! he fees
Bewilder'd in the Vale; in All unlike !

His full Reverse in All! What higher Praise ?
What stronger Demonftration of the Right?

THE Prefent all Their Care, the Future, His.
When Public Welfare calls, or Private Want,
They give to Fame; His Bounty He conceals:
Their Virtues varnish Nature; His, exalt:
Mankind's Efteem They court; and He, his Own:
Theirs, the wild Chafe of falfe Felicities;
His, the compos'd Poffeffion of the true :
Alike throughout is His cónfiftent Peace,
All of one Colour, and an even Thread
While party-colour'd Shreds of Happiness,
With hideous Gaps between, patch up for Them
A Madman's Robe; each Puff of Fortune blows
The Tatters by, and fhews their Nakedness.

He fees with other Eyes, than Theirs: Where They Behold a Sun, He fpies a Deity;

What makes Them only Smile, makes Him Adore? Where They fee Mountains, He but Atoms fees;

Am

An Empire, in His Balance, weighs a Grain:
They Things Terreftrial worship, as Divine ;
His Hopes Immortal blow them by, as Duft,
That dims his Sight, and shortens his Survey,
Which longs, in Infinite, to lose all Bound:
Titles and Honours (if they prove his Fate)
He lays afide, to find his Dignity;
No Dignity They find in ought befides:
They triumph in Externals (which conceal
Man's real Glory), proud of an Eclipse ;
Himself too much He prizes, to be Proud,
And nothing thinks fo great in Man, as Man:
Too dear He holds his Int'reft, to neglect
Another's Welfare, or his Right invade ;
Their Int'reft, like a Lion's, lives on Prey:
They kindle at the Shadow of a Wrong;
Wrong He fuftains with Temper, looks on Heav'n,
Nor ftoops to think his Injurer, his Foe;

Nought, but what wounds his Virtue, wounds his
Peace:

A cover'd Heart Their Character defends ;

A cover'd Heart denies Him half his Praise :
With Nakedness His Innocence agrees;
While Their broad Foliage testifies their Fall:
Their No-Joys end, where His full Feast begins;
His Joys create, Theirs murder, future Bliss:
To triumph in Existence, His alone;
And His alone, triumphantly to think
His true Existence is not yet begun :

His glorious Course was, Yefterday, complete;
Death, then, was welcome, yet Life ftill is Sweet.
But nothing charms LORENZO, like the firm,
Undaunted Breaft-And whose is that high Praise
They yield to Pleasure, tho' they Danger brave,
And fhew no Fortitude, but in the Field;
If there they fhew it, 'tis for Glory fhown;

Nor

Nor will that Cordial always man Their Hearts :
A Cordial His fuftains, that cannot fail:
By Pleasure unfubdu'd, unbroke by Pain,
He fhares in that Omnipotence he trufts;
All-bearing, All-attempting, till he falls,
And when he falls, writes VICI on his Shield;
From Magnanimity, all Fear above;

From nobler Recompence, above Applause ;
Which owes to Man's fhort Out-look all its Charms.
BACKWARD to credit what he never felt,
LORENZO cries," Where fhines this Miracle?
"From what Root rises this. Immortal Man ?"
A Root that grows not in LORENZO'S Ground;
The Root diffect, nor wonder at the Flow'r.

He follows Nature (not like * Thee), and fhews us An uninverted Syftem of a Man:

His Appetite wears Reafon's golden Chain,
And finds, in due Reftraint, its Luxury;
His Paffion, like an Eagle well-reclaim'd,
Is taught to fly at nought, but Infinite ;
Patient his Hope, un-anxious is his Care,
His Caution fearless, and his Grief (if Grief
The Gods ordain) a Stranger to Despair :-
And why? Because Affection, more than meet,
His Wisdom leaves not difengag'd from Heav'n :
Those secondary Goods that smile on Earth,
He, loving, in Proportion, loves in Peace;
They moft the World enjoy, who least admire:
His Understanding 'fcapes the common Cloud
Of Fumes, arifing from a boiling Breaft;
His Head is clear, because his Heart is cool,
By worldly Competitions uninflam'd:
'The mod'rate Movements of his Soul admit
Diftinct Ideas, and matur'd Debate,

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