AND sure, the deadliest Foe to Virtue's flame,
Our worst of evils, is perverted Shame.
Beneath this load; what abject numbers groan,
Th'entangled slaves to folly not their own!
Meanly by fashionable fear oppress'd
We seek our Virtues in each other's breast;
Blind to ourselves, adopt each foreign vice,
Another's weakness, int'rest, or caprice.
Each fool to low Ambition, poorly great,
That pines in splendid wretchedness of state,
Tir'd in the treach'rous chase, would nobly yield,
And, but for shame, like Sylla, quit the field:
The dæmon Shame paints strong the ridicule,
And whispers close, "the World will call you
fool."
Now bursts the wave that from the cloud
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud Howl o'er the masts and sing through every
Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears, And instant death on ev'ry wave appears.
Approach of Winter.
Then is the time,
For those whom wisdom, and whom nature charm,
To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd,
And soar above this little scene of things:
To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet;
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace,
And woo lone quiet in her silent walks.
IN that blest moment, from his oozy bed
Old father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head;
His tresses dropp'd with dews, and o'er the stream
His shining horns diffus'd a golden gleam :
Grav'd on his urn appear'd the moon, that guides
His swelling waters and alternate tides
The figur'd streams in waves of silver roll'd, And on her banks Augusta rose in gold; Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood, Who swell with tributary urns his flood: First the fam'd authors of his ancient name, The winding Isis, and the fruitful Thame : The Kennet swift, for silver eels renown'd; The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crown'd; Cole, whose dark streams his flow'ry islands lave; And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave : The blue transparent Vandalis appears; The gulphy Lee his sedgy tresses rears; And sullen Mole, that hides his diving flood; And silent Darent, stain'd with Danish blood. High in the midst, upon his urn reclin❜d, (His sea-green mantle waving with the wind) The god appear'd: he turn'd his azure eyes Where Windsor-domes and pompous turrets rise. Then bow'd and spoke; the winds forgot to roar, And the hush'd waves glide softly to the shore. POPE.
THERSITES only clamour'd in the throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue:
Aw'd by no shame, by no respect control'd,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold:
With witty malice studious to defame;
Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim,
But chief he glory'd with licentious stile
To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.
His figure such as might his soul proclaim,
One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame;
His mountain-shoulders half his breast o'erspread,
Thin hairs bestrew'd his long mis-shapen head.
Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess❜d,
And much he hated all, but most the best.
Ulysses or Achilles all his theme;
But royal scandal his delight supreme.
Long had he liv'd the scorn of ev'ry Greek,
Vex'd when he spoke, yet still they heard him
Sharp was his voice; which in the shrillest tone, Thus with injurious taunts attack'd the throne.
Now shield with shield, with helmet helmet
To armour armour, lance to lance oppos'd,
Host against host, with shadowy squadrons drew,
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew,
Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries,
And shrilling shouts, and dying groans arise;
With streaming blood the slipp'ry fields are dy'd,
And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide.
POPE'S HOMER.
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night!
O'er heav'n's clear azure spreads her sacred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole,
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
THE Groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long,
Live in description, and look green in song:
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