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Now let some whimsey, or that devil within

Which guides all those who know not what they mean, But give the knight (or give his lady) spleen, "Away, away! take all your scaffolds down,


"For Snug's the word: my dear! we'll live in Town."

At am'rous Flavio is the 2 stocking thrown?

That very night he longs to lie alone.

3 The fool, whose wife elopes, some thrice a quarter, For matrimonial solace dies a martyr.

Did ever 4 Proteus, Merlin, any witch,


Transform themselves so strangely as the rich? Well, but the 5 poor---the poor have the same itch; They change their weekly barber, weekly news, Prefer a new japanner to their shoes,


Discharge their garrets, move their beds, and run
(They know not whither) in a chaise and one ;
They 7 hire their sculler, and when once aboard
Grow sick, and damn the climate---like a lord. 160

Festinantis heri: cui si vitiosa libido

Fecerit auspicium; cras ferramenta Teanum
Tolletis, fabri. 2 Lectus genealis in aula est?
Nil ait esse prius, melius nil cœlibe vita:
Si non est, jurat bene solis esse maritis.
4 Quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo ?
Quid 5 pauper? ride: mutat cænacula lectos,
Balnea, tonsores ; 7 conducto navigio æque
Nauseat ac locuples, quem ducit priva triremis.

You laugh, half-beau, half-sloven, if I stand,
My wig all powder, and all snuff my band;
You laugh if coat and breeches, strangely vary,
White gloves, and linen, worthy Lady Mary !
But when 2 no prelate's lawn, with hair-shirt lin'd
Is half so incoherent as my mind;

When (each opinion with the next at strife,
One 3 ebb, and flow of follies all my life)

I + plant, root up; I build, and then confound;

Turn round to square, and square again to round;
5 You never change one muscle of your face,
You think this madness but a common case,
Nor once to chanc'ry, nor to Hale apply,
Yet hang your lip, to see a seam awry !
Careless how ill I with myself agree,
Kind to my dress, my figure, not to me.
Is this my, guide, philosopher, and friend?
This he who loves me, and who ought to mend?

1 Si curatus inæquali tonsore capillos
Ocurro, rides: si forte subucula pexæ

Trita subest tunicæ, vel si toga dissidet impar,
Rides: quid, 2 mea cum pugnat sententia secum?
Quod petiit, spernit; repetit, quod nuper omisit;
stuat, et vitæ disconvenit ordine toto?


4 Diruit, ædificat, mutat quadrata rotundis ?
5 Insanire putas solennia me, neque rides,
Nec medici credis, nec curatoris egere
A prætore dati; rerum 7 tutela mearum

Cum sis, et prave sectum stomacheris ob unguem





Who ought to make me (what he can, or none)
That man divine whom Wisdom calls her own;
Great, without title, without fortune, bless'd;
Rich'ev'n when plunder'd, honour'd while oppress'd;
Lov'd, 2 without youth, and follow'd, without pow'r;
At home, tho' exil'd; 3 free, tho' in the Tow'r:
In short, that reas'ning, high, immortal thing,
Just less then Jove, and 5 much above a king:
Nay, half in heav'n---6 except (what's mighty odd)
A fit of vapours clouds this demigod?


De te pendentis, te respicientis amici.



Ad summam, sapiens uno minor est Jove, 1 dives, 2 Liber, 3 honoratus, 4 pulcher, 5 rex denique regum; Præcipue sanus, 6 nisi cum pituita molesta est.




"Nor to admire is all the art I know

"To make men happy, and to keep them so." (Plain truth, dear Murray! needs no flow'rs of speech,

So take it in the very words of Creech.)

This vault of air, this congregated ball, Self-centred sun, and stars, that run and fall, There are, my Friend! whose philosophic eyes Look thro", and trust the Ruler with his skies; To him commit the hour, the day, the year, And view 2 this dreadful All without a fear.

Admire we then what 3 earth's low entrails hold, Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold;

All the mad trade of 4 fools and slaves for gold?

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NIL admirari, prope res est una, Numici,
Solaque quæ possit facere et servare beatum.
Hunc solem, et stellas, et decedentia certis
Tempora momentis, sunt qui 2 formidine nuila
Imbuti spectent. 3 quid censes munera terræ ?
Quid maris, extremos Arabas 4 ditantis et Indos?

Or popularity? or stars, and strings?

The mob's applauses, or the gift, of kings?

Say with what 2 eyes we ought, at courts, to gaze,
And pay the great our homage of amaze?

If weak the 3 pleasure that from these can spring,
The fear to want them is as weak a thing:
Whether we dread, or whether we desire,
In either case believe me we admire:
Whether we 4 joy, or grieve, the same the curse,
Surpris'd at better, or surpris'd at worse.
Thus good, or bad, to one extreme betray
Th' unbalanc'd mind, and snatch the man away:
For virtue's self may too much zeal be had;
The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.

6 Go then, and if you can, admire the state Of beaming diamonds and reflected plate;

Ludicra quid, 2 plausus, et amici dona Quiritis,
Quo spectanda modo, 2 quo sensu credis, et ore?
3 Qui timet his adversa, fere miratur eodem
Quo cupiens pacto: pavor est utrobique molestus:
Improvisa simul species exterret utrique;




4 Gaudeat, an doleat; cupiat, metuatne, quid ad rem; Si quidquid vidit melius pejusve sua spe, Defixis oculis, animoque et corpore torpet? 5 Insani sapiens nomen ferat, æquus iniqui; Ultra, quam satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam.

I nunc, argentum, et marmor vetus, æraque et


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