So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,
Shuts close his pinions to his breast
(If chance his mate's thrill call he hear)
And drops at once into her nest.

The noblest captain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

"O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,

My vows shall ever true remain;
Let me kiss off that falling tear;
We only part to meet again.

Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.
Believe not what the landmen say,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind.
They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,

In every port a mistress find:

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

If to fair India's coast we sail,

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin is ivory so white.

Thus every beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue,

Though battle call me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,
William shall to his dear return.

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Lest precious drops should fall from Susan's eye.”
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

The sails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer must she stay aboard:

They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head,
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land:
"Adieu!" she cries: and wav'd her lily hand.

Q

CXXVII. POPE.

1. ON HAPPINESS.

O happiness! our being's end and aim!

Good, pleasure, ease, content, whate'er thy name:
That something still which prompts th' eternal sign,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die;
Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies,
O'erlook'd, seen double, by the fool and wise:
Plant of celestial seed! if dropt below,

Say in what mortal soil thou deign'st to grow f
Fair opening to some court's propitious shine,
Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine?
Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield,
Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field?

Where grows?-where grows it not? If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the soil:
Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere,

'Tis nowhere to be found, or every where:

'Tis never to be bought, but always free,

And, fled from monarchs, St John! dwells with thee,
Ask of the learned the way! the learned are blind ·
This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind:
Some place the bliss in action, some in ease,
Those call it Pleasure, and Contentment these:
Some, sunk to beasts, find pleasure end in pain:
Some, swell'd to gods, confess e'en Virtue vain :
Or indolent to each extreme they fall,
To trust in every thing, or doubt of all.

Who thus define it, say they more or less
Than this, that happiness is happiness?

Take Nature's path, and mad opinion's leave:
All states can reach it and all heads conceive :
Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell:
There needs but thinking right, and meaning weli;
And, mourn our various portions as we please,
Equal is common sense and common ease.
Remember, man, "the Universal Cause
Acts not by partial, but by general laws;"
And makes, what Happiness we justly call,
Subsist not in the good of one, but all.

There's not a blessing individuals find,
But some way leans and hearkens to the kind.
No bandit fierce, no tyrant mad with pride,
No cavern'd hermit, rests self-satisfied:
Who most to shun or hate mankind pretend,
Seek an admirer, or would fix a friend,
Abstract what others feel, what others think,
All pleasures sicken and all glories sink;
Each has his share; and who would more obtain,
Shall find the pleasure pays not half the pain.
Order is heaven's first law: and, this confest,
Some are and must be, greater than the rest:
More rich, more wise: but who infers from hence
That such are happier, shocks all common sense.
Heaven to mankind impartial we confess,

If all are equal in their happiness:

But mutual wants this happiness increase;
All Nature's difference keeps all Nature's peace.
Condition, circumstance, is not the thing:
Bliss is the same in subject or in king:
In who obtain defence, or who defend,
In him who is, or him who finds a friend.

Heaven breathes through every member of the whole
One common blessing as one common soul.
But Fortune's gifts if each alike possest,
And each were equal, must not all contest?
If then to all men Happiness was meant,
God in externals could not place content.

Fortune her gifts may variously dispose,
And these be happy call'd, unhappy those ;
But heaven's just balance equal will appear,
While those are plac'd in hope, and these in fear:
Not present good or ill, the joy or curse,
But future views of better or of worse.
Oh sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise,
By mountains pil'd on mountains, to the skies?
Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys.
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.

Know, all the good that individuals find,
Or God and Nature meant to mere mankind,

Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words, Health, Peace, and Competence. 2. ON VIRTUE.

Know then this truth (enough for man to know), "Virtue alone is happiness below:

The only point where human bliss stands still,
And tastes the good without the fall to ill;
Where only merit constant pay receives,
Is blest in what it takes, and what it gives :
The joy unequall'd, if its end it gain,
And if it lose, attended with no pain:
Without satiety, though e'er so bless'd,
And but more relish'd, as the more distress'd :
The broadest mirth unfeeling Folly wears,
Less pleasing far than Virtue's very tears:
Good from each object, from each place acquir'd,
For ever exercis'd yet never tir'd:

Never elated while one man's oppress'd!
Never dejected while another's bless'd;
And where no wants, no wishes can remain,
Since but to wish more Virtue, is to gain.
See the sole bliss Heaven could on all bestow!
Which who but feels can taste, but thinks can know:
Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind,
The bad must miss: the good, untaught will find:
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
But looks through Nature up to Nature's god;
Pursues that chain which links th' immense design,
Joins heaven and earth, and mortal and divine ·
Sees that no being any bliss can know,
But touches some above and some below;
Learns, from this union of the rising whole,
The first, last purpose of the human soul;
And knows where faith, law, morals, all began,
All end in love of God, and love of man.
For him alone Hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens still, and opens on his soul;
Till, lengthen'd on to faith, and unconfin'd,
It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.

He sees why Nature plants in man alone

Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown :
(Nature, whose dictates to no other kind

Àre given in vain, but what they seek they find)
Wise is her present: she connects in this
His greatest virtue with his greatest bliss;
At once his own bright prospect to be blest,
And strongest motive to assist the rest.

Self-love thus pushed to social, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour's blessing thine.
Is this too little for the boundless heart?
Extend it, let thy enemies have part:

Grasp the whole world of Reason, Life, and Sense,
In one close system of benevolence:
Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree,
And height of bliss but height of charity.

God loves from whole to parts: but human soul Must rise from individual to the whole.

Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the small pebbles stir the peaceful lake;
The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads;
Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace;
His country next; and next all human race;
Wide and more wide, the o'erflowings of the mind
Take every creature in of every kind:

Earth smiles around, with boundless beauty blest,
And heaven beholds its image in his breast.

3. ON VERSIFICATION.

Many by numbers judge a poet's song;

And smooth or rough, with them, is right or wrong;
In the bright muse though thousand charms conspire,
Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire,

Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear,
Not mend their minds; as some to church repair
Not for the doctrine, but the music there.

These equal syllables alone require,
Though oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid do join,

And ten low words oft creep in one dull line;