He fees, why nature plants in man alone
Hope of known blifs, and faith in blifs unknown:
(Nature, whofe dictates to no other kind
Are giv'n in vain, but what they seek they find)
Wife is her prefent; fhe connects in this
His greateft virtue with his greateft blifs;
At once his own bright prospect to be bleft,
And strongest motive to affift the reft.
Self-love thus pufh'd to focial, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour's bleffing thine.
Is this too little for the boundless heart?
Extend it, let thy enemies have part:
Grafps the whole worlds of reafon, life, and fenfe,
In one close fyftem of benevolence:
Happier and kinder, in whate'er degree.
And height of blifs but height of charity.
God loves from whole to parts: but human foul
Muft rife from individual to the whole,
Self-love but ferves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the finall pebble ftirs the peaceful lake;
The center mov'd, a circle ftraight fucceeds,
Another ftill, and fill another spreads;
Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace;
His country next; and next all human race;
Wide and more wide th' o'erflowings of the mind
Take ev'ry creature in, of ev'ry kind;
Earth fmiles around, with boundless bounty bleft,
And heav'n beholds its image in his breast.
E 2
Come then, my friend! my genius! come along, Oh mafter of the poet, and the fong!
And while the mufe now floops, or now ascends,
To man's low paffions, or their glorious ends,
Teach me, like thee, in various nature wife,
To fall with dignity, with temper rife ;
Form'd by thy converfe, happily to fleer
From grave to gay, from lively to fevere ;
Correct with fpirit, eloquent with ease,
Intent to reafon, or polite to please.
Oh! while along the fream of time thy name
Expanded flies, aud gathers all its fame;
Say, fhall my little bark attendant fail,
Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale ?
When flatesmen, heroes, kings, in duft repose,
Whofe fons fhall blush their fathers were thy foes,
Shall then this verfe to future age pretend
Thou wert my guide, philofopher, and friend?
That, urg'd by thee, I turn'd the tuneful art
From founds to things, from fancy to the heart;
For wit's falfe mirror held up nature's light; }
Shew'd erring pride. WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT;
That REASON, PASSION, answer one great aim;
That true SELF-LOVE and SOCIAL are the fame;
That VIRTUE only makes our bliss below;
And all our knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW.
FATHER of All! in ev'ry Age,
ev'ry clime ador'd,
By faint, by favage, and by fage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!
Thou Great Firft Cause, leaft understood ::
Who all my fenfe confin'd
To know but this, that Thou art Good,
And that myself am blind;
Yet gave me in this dark estate,
To fee the good from ill;
And binding nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will..
What confcience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do.
This teach me more than hell to fhun,
That, more than heav'n pursue..
What bleffings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not caft away:
For God is paid when man receives:
T' enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round:
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.
If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay ;
If I am wrong, oh teach my
To find that better way.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath:
Oh lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death..
This day, be bread and peace my lot:
All elfe beneath the fun,
Thou know'ft if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.
To thee, whofe temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth and skies!
One chorus let all Being raise;
All nature's incense rise!
WAS at the royal feaft, for Perfia won,
By Philip's warlike fon;
Aloft in awful flate
The godlike hero fate
On his imperial throne:
Their brows with rofes and with myrtle bound;
So. fhould defert in arms be crown'd.
The lovely Thais by his fide
Sat, like a blooming eaftern bride,.
In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride :
Happy, happy, happy pair;
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deferves the fair.
Timotheus, plac'd on high
Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes afcend the fky,
And heavenly joys infpire.
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