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Others, convinc'd by melancholy proof,

Enquire when courteous fates will strike 'em off.
Some by what means they may redress the wrong,
When fathers the possession keep too long.
And some would know the issue of their cause,
And whether gold can solder up its flaws.
Poor pregnant Laïs his advice would have,
To lose by art what fruitful nature gave :
And Portia, old in expectation grown,
Laments her barren curse, and begs a son:
Whilst Iris his cosmetick wash would try,
To make her bloom revive, and lover die.
Some ask for charms, and others philtres choose,
To gain Corinna, and their quartans lose.
Young Hylas, botch'd with stains too foul to narie,
In cradle here renews his youthful frame :
Cloy'd with desire, and surfeited with charms,
A hot-house he prefers to Julia's arms:
And old Lucullus would th' Arcanum prove
Of kindling in cold veins the sparks of love.


Dissentions, like small streams, at first begun,
Scarce seen they rise, but gather as they run :
So lines that from their parallel decline,
More they advance, the more they still disjoin.

His shop the gazing vulgar's eyes employs
With foreign trinkets and domestic toys:
Here mummies lay, most reverendly stale,
And there the tortoise hung her coat of mail;
Not far from some huge shark's devouring head,
The flying fish their finny pinions spread;
Aloft in rows large poppy-heads were strung,
And near a scaly alligator hung;

In this place drugs, in musty heaps decayed,
In that dried bladdersand drawn teeth were laid,



Away! let naught to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move your care;
Let naught delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear.
What though no grants of royal donors

With pompous titles grace our blood;

We'll shine in more substantial honours,
And to be noble we'll be good.

Our name, while virtue thus we tender,

Will sweetly sound where'er 'tis spoke; And all the great ones, they shall wonder How they respect such little folk.

What though from fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treasures we possess;
We'll find within our pittance plenty,
And be content without excess.

Still shall each returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give;
For we will live a life of reason,

And that's the only life to live!

Through youth and age in love excelling, We'll hand in hand together tread; Sweet smiling peace shall crown our dwelling, And babes, sweet smiling babes, our bed.

How should I love the pretty creatures,

While round my knees they fondly clung;
To see them look their mother's features,
To hear them lisp their mother's tongue.

And when with envy time transported
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.



Darkness, thou first kind parent of us all,
Thou art our great original!

Since from thy universal womb,

Does all thou had'st below, thy num'rous offspring, come.
Thy wond'rous birth is ev'n to time unknown,
Or, like eternity thou 'dst none;

While light did its first being owe
Unto that awful shade it dares to rival now.
Involv'd in thee we first receive our breath:
Thou art our refuge too in death !

Great monarch of the grave and womb!

Where-e'er our souls shall go, to thee our bodies come.
The silent globe is struck with awful fear

When thy majestic shades appear.
Thou dost compose the air and sea :
And earth a sabbath keeps, sacred to rest and thee.
In thy serener shades our ghosts delight,

And court the umbrage of the night.

In vaults and gloomy caves they stray, But fly the morning beams, and sicken at the day. Thou dost thy smiles impartially bestow:

And know'st no diff'rence here below; All things appear the same to thee: Tho' Light distinction makes, thou giv'st equality. In caves of night, the oracles of old

Did all their mysteries unfold:

Darkness did first religion grace,

Gave terrors to the god, and rev'rence to the place.
When the Almighty did on Horeb stand,

Thy shades inclos'd the hallow'd land:
In clouds of night he was array'd,
And venerable darkness his pavilion made.
When he appear'd arm'd in his pow'r and might,
He veil'd the beatifick light;

When terrible with majesty,

In tempests he gave laws, and clad himself with thee.

And fading light its empire must resign.

And nature's power submit to thine :

A universal ruin shall erect thy throne,

And fate confirm thy kingdom evermore thy own.



Count Gormaz, you, and you Alvarez, hear :
Though in the camp your swords, in court your counsel,
Have justly raised your fame to envied heights,
Yet let me still deplore your race and you,
That from a long descent of lineal heat,

Your private feuds as oft have shook the state;
And what's the source of this upheld defiance?
Alas! the stubborn claim of ancient rank,
Held from a two-days' antedated honour,
Which gave the younger house pre-eminence.
How many valiant lives have eased our foes
Of fear, destroy'd by this contested title;
And what's decided by this endless valour?
Whose honour yet confesses the superior?
While both dare die, the quarrel is immortal:
Or say that force on one part has prevailed,
Is there such merit in unequal strength?
If violence is virtue, brutes may boast it:
Lions with lions grapple, and dispute:
But men are only great, truly victorious,
When with superior reason they subdue.
Can you then think you are in honour bound
To heir the follies of your ancestors?
Since they have left you virtue and renown,
Transmit not to posterity their blame.



Ere vet the clouds let fall the treasur'd snow;
Or wind began through hazy skies to blow,
At evening a keen eastern breeze arose,
And the descending rain unsullied froze.

Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew,
The ruddy morn disclos'd at once to view
The face of nature in a rich disguise,

And brighten'd every object to my eyes;
For every shrub, and every blade of grass,
And every pointed thorn seem'd wrought in glass;
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,
While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
The thick-sprung reeds, which watery marshes yield,
Seem'd polish'd lances in a hostile field.

The stag in limpid currents, with surprise,
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise:
The spreading oak, the beach, and tow'ring pine,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing æther shine.

The frighted birds the rattling branches shun,
Which wave and glitter in the distant sun.
Then, if a sudden gust of wind arise,
The brittle forest into atoms flies,

The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends,
And in a spangled shower the prospect ends.



It must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well-
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality!

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror,
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction ?
'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter.
And intimates eternity to man.

Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,

Through what new scenes and changes must we pass!
The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon't.
Here will I hold. If there's a power above,
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud

Through all her works) he must delight in virtue;

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