"Ambition deals in tinsel toys; Her traffic gewgaws, fleeting joys, "An errant juggler in disguise, "Who holds false optics to your eyes. "But ah! how quick the shadows pass! "Though the bright visions through her glass "Charm at a distance! yet, when near, "The baseless fabrics disappear.

"Nor riches boast intrinsic worth; "Their charms, at best, superior earth: "These oft the heaven-born mind enslave, "And make an honest man a knave." "Wealth cures my wants!' the miser cries: "Be not deceiv'd-the miser lies; "One want he has, with all his store, "That worst of wants-the want of more." "Take Pleasure, Wealth, and Pomp away, "And where is Happiness?' you say. ""Tis here-and may be yours-for, know, "I'm all that's Happiness below.

"To Vice I leave tumultuous joys; "Mine is the still and softer voice! "That whispers peace when storms invade, "And music through the midnight shade.

"Come, then, be mine in ev'ry part, "Nor give me less than all your heart; "When troubles discompose your breast, "I'll enter there a cheerful guest: "My converse shall your cares beguile, "The little world within shall smile. "And then it scarce imports a jot, "Whether the great world frowns or not.

"And when the closing scenes prevail, "When wealth, state, pleasure, all shall fail; "All that a foolish world admires, "Or Passion craves, or Pride inspires: "At that important hour of need, "Virtue shall prove a friend indeed! "My hands shall smooth thy dying bed,

My arms sustain thy drooping head: "And when the painful struggle's o'er, "And that vain thing, the world, no more; "I'll bear my fav'rite son away "To rapture and eternal day."

$73. Vision VI. Friendship.
FRIENDSHIP! thou soft propitious pow'r!
Sweet regent of the social hour!
Sublime thy joys, nor understood
But by the virtuous and the good!
Cabal and Riot take thy name,
But 'tis a false affected claim;

In heaven if Love and Friendship dwell,
Can they associate e'er with hell?

Thou art the same through change of times, Through frozen zones and burning climes; From the equator to the pole,

The same kind angel through the whole:
And, since thy choice is always free,

I bless thee for thy smiles on me.

When sorrows swell the tempest high,
Thou, a kind port, art always nigh;
For aching hearts a sov'reign cure,
Not soft nepenthe half so sure!
And, when returning comforts rise,
Thou the bright sun that gilds our skies.
While these ideas warm'd my breast,
My weary eyelids stole to rest;
When fancy re-assum'd the theme,
And furnish'd this instructive dream:
I sail'd upon a stormy sea
(Thousands embark'd alike with me);
My skiff was small, and weak beside,
Not built, methought, to stem the tide ;
The winds along the surges sweep,
The wrecks lie scatter'd through the deep;
Aloud the foaming billows roar;
Unfriendly rocks forbid the shore.

While all our various course pursue,
A spacious isle salutes our view:
Two queens with tempers diff'ring wide,
This new-discover'd world divide:
A river parts their proper claim,
And Truth its celebrated name.

One side a beauteous tract of ground
Presents, with living verdure crown'd:
The seasons temp'rate, soft, and mild,
And a kind sun that always smil'd:
Few storms molest the natives here;
Cold is the only ill they fear.
This happy clime and grateful soil,
With plenty crowns the laborer's toil.

Here Friendship's happy kingdom grew:
Her realms were small, her subjects few:
A thousand charms the palace grace;
A rock of adamant its base.

Though thunders roll, and lightnings fly,
This structure braves th' inclement sky:
E'en time, which other piles devours,
And mocks the pride of human pow'rs,
Partial to Friendship's pile alone,
Cements the joints, and binds the stone:
Ripens the beauties of the place,
And calls to life each latent grace.

Around the throne in order stand,
Four Amazons, a trusty band!
Friends ever faithful to advise,
Or to defend when dangers rise.
Here Fortitude, in coat of mail;
There Justice lifts her golden scale;
Two hardy chiefs, who persevere,
With form erect, and brow severe :
Who smile at perils, pains, and death,
And triumph with their latest breath.

Temp'rance, that comely matron's near,
Guardian of all the virtues here;
Adorn'd with ev'ry blooming grace,
Without one wrinkle in her face.

But Prudence most attracts the sight, And shines pre-eminently bright.

To view her various thoughts that rise,
She holds a mirror to her eyes;
The mirror, faithful to its charge,
Reflects the virgin's soul in large.

A Virtue with a softer air

Was handmaid to the regal fair:
This nymph, indulgent, constant, kind,
Derives from heaven her spotless mind;
When actions wear a dubious face,
Puts the best meaning on the case;
She spreads her arms, and bares her breasts,
Takes in the naked and distress'd;
Prefers the hungry orphan's cries,
And from her queen obtains supplies.
The maid, who acts this lovely part,
Grasp'd in her hand a bleeding heart.
Fair Charity, be thou my guest,
And be thy constant couch my rest!
But virtues of inferior name

Crowd round the throne with equal claim;
In loyalty by none surpass'd,

They hold allegiance to the last :
Not ancient records e'er can show
That one deserted to the foe.

The river's other side display'd
Alternate plots of flow'rs and shade,
Where poppies shone with various hue,
Where yielding willows plenteous grew:
And humble plants*, by trav'llers thought
With slow but certain poison fraught.
Beyond these scenes the eye descried
A pow'rful realm extended wide;
Whose bound'ries from north-east begun,
And stretch'd to meet the south-west sun.
Here Flatt'ry boasts despotic sway,
And basks in all the warmth of day.

Long practis'd in Deception's school,
The tyrant knew the arts to rule;
Elated with th' imperial robe,
She plans the conquest of the globe;
And, aided by her servile trains,
Leads kings, and sons of kings, in chains.
Her darling minister is Pride

(Who ne'er was known to change his side),
A friend to all her int'rests just,
And active to discharge his trust;
Caress'd alike by high and low,
The idol of the belle and beau:
In ev'ry shape he shows his skill,
And forms her subjects to his will:
Enters their houses and their hearts,
And gains his point before he parts;
Sure never minister was known
So zealous for his sov'reign's throne!
Three sisters, similar in mien,
Were maids of honor to the queen;
Who farther favors shar'd beside,
As daughters of her statesman, Pride.
The first, Conceit, with tow'ring crest,
Who look'd with scorn upon the rest;

Fond of herself, nor less, I deem,
Than duchess in her own esteem.

Next Affectation, fair and young,
With half-form'd accents on her tongue;
Whose antic shapes, and various face,
Distorted ev'ry native grace.

Then Vanity, a wanton maid, Flaunting in brussels and brocade; Fantastic, frolicsome, and wild, With all the trinkets of a child.

The people, loyal to the queen,
Wore their attachment in their mien;
With cheerful heart they homage paid,
And happiest he who most obey'd;
While they who sought their own applause,
Promoted most their sov'reign's cause.
The minds of all were fraught with guile;
Their manners dissolute and vile;
And ev'ry tribe, like Pagans, run
To kneel before the rising sun.

But now some clam'rous sounds arise,
And all the pleasing vision flies.
Once more I clos'd my eyes to sleep,
And gain'd th' imaginary deep;
Fancy presided at the helm,

And steer'd me back to Friendship's realm.
But, oh! with horror I relate
The revolutions of her state;
The Trojan chief could hardly more
His Asiatic tow'rs deplore.

For Flatt'ry view'd those fairer plains
With longing eyes, where Friendship reigns:
With envy heard her neighbour's fame,
And often sigh'd to gain the same;
At length, by pride and int'rest fir'd,
To Friendship's kingdom she aspir'd.

And, now commencing open foe,
She plans in thought some mighty blow;
Draws out her forces on the green,
And marches to invade the queen.

The river Truth the hosts withstood,
And roll'd her formidable flood:
Her current strong, and deep, and clear;
No fords were found, no ferries near,
But as the troops approach'd the waves,
Their fears suggest a thousand graves;
They all retir'd with haste extreme,
And shudder'd at the dung'rous stream.
Hypocrisy the gulph explores;
She forms a bridge, and joins the shores.
Thus often art or fraud prevails,
When military prowess fails:
The troops an easy passage find,
And vict'ry follows close behind.

Friendship with ardor charg'd her foes,
And now the fight promiscuous grows;
But Flatt'ry threw a poison'd dart,
And pierc'd the empress to the heart.
The Virtues all around were seen

To fall in heaps about the queen.

The tyrant stripp'd the mangled fair;
She wore her spoils, assum'd her air;
And, mounting next the sufferer's throne,
Claim'd the queen's titles as her own.

"Ah, injur'd maid!" aloud I cried;
“Ah, injur'd maid!" the rocks replied.
But judge my griefs, and share them too,
For the sad tale pertains to you;
Judge, reader, how severe the wound,
When Friendship's foes were mine, I found;
When the sad scene of pride and guile
Was Britain's poor degen rate isle!

The Amazons, who propp'd the state,
Haply survey'd the gen'ral fate.
Justice to Powis House is fled,

And Yorke sustains her radiant head.
The virtue, Fortitude, appears
In open day at Ligonier's;
Illustrious heroine of the sky,
Who leads to vanquish or to die!
'Twas she our vet'rans breasts inspir'd,
When Belgia's faithless sons retir'd:
For Tournay's treach'rous tow'rs can tell
Britannia's children greatly fell.

No partial Virtue of the plain!
She rous'd the lions of the main :
Hence Vernon's little fleet succeeds*,
And hence the gen'rous Cornwall bleeds +,
Hence Grenville glorious !—for she smil'd
On the young hero from a child.

Though in high life such virtues dwell,
They'll suit plebeian breasts as well.
Say, that the mighty and the great
Blaze, like meridian suns of state;
Effulgent excellence display,
Like Hallifax, in floods of day;
Our lesser orbs may pour their light,
Like the mild crescent of the night.
Though pale our beams, and small our sphere,
Still we may shine serene and clear.

Give to the judge the scarlet gown;
To martial souls the civic crown:
What then? Is merit their's alone?
Have we no worth to call our own?
Shall we not vindicate our part
In the firm breast and upright heart?
Reader, these virtues may be thine,
Though in superior life they shine.
I can't discharge great Hardwicke's trust;
True-but my soul may still be just:
And though I can't the state defend,
I'll draw the sword to serve my friend.
Two golden virtues are behind,
Of equal import to the mind;
Prudence, to point out Wisdom's way,
Or to reclaim us when we stray;
Temp'rance, to guard the youthful heart,
When Vice and Folly throw the dart:
Each virtue, let the world agree,
Daily resides with you and me.
And when our souls in friendship join,
We'll deem the social bond divine;

Through ev'ry scene maintain our trust,
Nor e'er be timid or unjust.

That breast, where Honor builds his throne,
That breast, which Virtue calls her own,
Nor Int'rest warps, nor Fear appals,
When Danger frowns, or Lucre calls.
No! the true friend collected stands,
Fearless his heart, and pure his hands:
Let Int'rest plead, let storms arise,
He dares be honest, though he dies!

$74. Vision VII. Marriage. Inseribed to Miss ***.

FAIREST, this Vision is thy due;

I form'd th' instructive plan for you.
Slight not the rules of thoughtful age;
Your welfare actuates ev'ry page;
But ponder well my sacred theme,
And tremble while you read my dream.
These awful words, till death do part,"
May well alarm the youthful heart:
No after-thought when once a wife,
The die is cast, and cast for life;
Yet thousands venture ev'ry day,
As some base passion leads the way.
Pert Sylvia talks of wedlock scenes,
Though hardly enter'd on her teens ;
Smiles on her whining spark, and hears
The sugar'd speech with raptur'd ears;
Impatient of a parent's rule,

She leaves her sire, and weds a fool;
Want enters at the guardless door,
And Love is fled, to come no more.

Some few there are of sordid mould,
Who barter youth and bloom for gold,
Careless with what or whom they mate;
Their ruling passion's all for state.
But Hymen, gen'rous, just, and kind,
Abhors the mercenary mind;
Such rebels groan beneath his rod;
For Hymen's a vindictive god :
"Be joyless ev'ry night," he said:
"And barren be their nuptial bed!""
Attend, my fair, to wisdom's voice;
A better fate shall crown thy choice.
A married life, to speak the best,
Is all a lottery confest:

Yet, if my fair one will be wise,
I will ensure my girta prize,

Though not a prize to match thy worth:
Perhaps thy equal's not on earth!

With some, indeed, you can't dispense,
As want of temper and of sense :
For when the sun deserts the skies,
And the dull winter evenings rise,
Then for a husband's social pow'r
To form the calm, conversive hour;
The treasures of thy breast explore,
From that rich mine to draw the ore:
Fondly each gen'rous thought refine,
And give thy native gold to shine;
Show thee, as really thou art,
Though fair, yet fairer still at heart.

Say, when life's purple blossoms fade,
As soon they must, thou charming maid!
When in thy cheek the roses die,
And sickness clouds that brilliant eye;
Say, when or age or pains invade,
And those dear limbs shall call for aid;
If thou art fetter'd to a fool,
Shall not his transient passion cool?
And, when thy health and beauty end,
Shall thy weak mate persist a friend?
But to a man of sense, my dear,
E'en then thou lovely shalt
appear;
He'll share the griefs that wound thy heart,
And, weeping, claim the larger part:
Though age impairs that beauteous face,
He'll prize the pearl beyond it's case.
In wedlock when the sexes meet,
Friendship is only then complete.

"Bless'd state! where souls each other draw;
"Where love is liberty and law!"
The choicest blessing found below,
That man can wish, or Heaven bestow!
Trust me, these raptures are divine,
For lovely Chloe once was mine!
Nor fear the varnish of my style;
Though poet, I'm estfang'd to guile.
Ah me! my faithful lips impart
The genuine language of my heart!
When bards extol their patrons high,
Perhaps 'tis gold extorts the lie;
Perhaps the poor reward of bread-
But who burns incense to the dead?
He, whom a fond affection draws,
Careless of censure or applause ;
Whose soul is upright and sincere,
With nought to wish, and nought to fear.
Now to my visionary scheme
Attend, and profit by my dream.
Amidst the slumbers of the night,

A stately temple rose to sight;
And ancient as the human race,
If Nature's purposes you trace:
This fane, by all the wise rever'd,
To wedlock's pow'rful god was rear'd.
Hard by I saw a graceful sage,
His locks were frosted o'er by age;
His garb was plain, his mind serene,
And wisdom dignified his mien.
With curious search his name I sought,
And found 'twas Hymen's fav'rite, Thought.
Apace the giddy crowds advance,
And a lewd satyr led the dance.

I griev'd to see whole thousands run,
For oh! what thousands were undone !
The sage, when these mad troops he spied,
In pity flew to join their side:
The disconcerted pairs began

To rail against him to a man;
Vow'd they were strangers to his name,
Nor knew from whence the dotard came.
But mark the sequel-for this truth
Highly concerns impetuous youth.
Long ere the honey-moon could wane,
Perdition seiz'd on every twain;
At ev'ry house, and all day long,
Repentance plied her scorpion thong:
Disgust was there with frowning mien,
And ev'ry wayward child of spleen.

Hymen approach'd his awful fane,
Attended by a num'rous train.
Love, with each soft and nameless grace,
Was first in favor and in place:
Then came the god, with solemn gait,
Whose ev'ry word was big with fate;
His hand a flaming taper bore,
That sacred symbol, fam'd of yore.
Virtue, adorn'd with every charm,
Sustain'd the god's incumbent arm;
Beauty improv'd the glowing scene
With all the roses of eighteen.
Youth led the gaily-smiling fair;
His purple pinions wav'd in air;
Wealth, a close hunks, walk'd hobbling nigh,
With vulture-claw, and eagle-eye,
Who threescore years had seen, or more
("Tis said his coat had seen a score):

Proud was the wretch, though clad in rags,
Presuming much upon his bags.

A female next her arts display'd;
Poets alone can paint the maid:

Trust me, Hogarth (though great thy fame),
"T would pose thy skill to draw the same;
And yet thy mimic pow'r is more
Than ever painter's was before.
Now she was fair as cygnet's down,
Now as Mat Prior's Emma brown;
And, changing as the changing flow'r,
Her dress she varied ev'ry hour.
'Twas Fancy, child-you know the fair,
Who pins your gown, and sets your hair.

Lo! the god mounts his thrown of state,
And sits the arbiter of fate:
His head, with radiant glories drest,
Gently reclin'd on Virtue's breast.
Love took his station on the right:
His quiver beam'd with golden light:
Beauty usurp'd the second place,
Ambitious of distinguish'd grace;
She claim'd this ceremonial joy,
Because related to the boy;
Said it was hers to point his dart,
And speed his passage to the heart;
While on the god's inferior hand
Fancy and Wealth obtain'd their stand.

And now the hallow'd rites proceed,
And now a thousand heart-strings bleed.