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He lives in those he left:..
:-o-to what?

Share his delight; take heed to thum Your, now, paternal care,

Of boloñis most difcas'd Clear from its cloud your brighten'd eye,

That odd distemper, an abdur'd It will discern him there ;

Reluctance to be pleas’d: In features, not of form aline,

Surre seem in love with forrow's charms, But thore, I trust, of mind,

And that foul fiend embrace : Auspicious to the public weal,

· This temper let one juftly brand, And to their fate religri'd.

And ftamp it with disgrace : Think on the tempests be sustain'd;

Sorrow! of horrid parentage! Revolve lis battle won;

Thou leconci-horu of leil! And let those prophecy your joy

Againit heaven's endie's mercies pour'd From such a failer's fun :

How dar'lt thou to rebel? Is consolation what you frels?

From black and noxious vapouts bred Fan, then, bis martial fire:

And nurs'd by want of thourht, And arimate to fame the fpaths

And to the door of frenzy's self Bequeath'd him by his live:

By perfeverance brought, As nething great is born in haste,

Thy moft inglorious, coward teits Wile nature's time allow;

From brutal eyes have tar; Ulis father's laureis may decerd,

Smiles, incommunicabic ínile; And flourish on his brow.

Are radiant marks of man ; Por, Madam! be surpris'd to hear

They calt a sudden glory round That laurels may be due

Th'illumin'd human face; Yot more to herocs of the fieid,

And light in fons of honeft iny (Proud boasters!) than to you:

Some beains of Moses' face; Tender as is the female frame,

Is Refignation's le Ton hud? Like that brave man you moun,

Examine, we thall find You are a soldier, and to fight

That duty gives up little more Superior battles born ;

Than anguish of the mind; Beneath a bariner nobler far

Refign; and all the load of life Than ever was unfurl'd

That moment you remove, fields of blood; a banner brighit!

Its heavy tax, ten thousand cares High wav'd o'er all the world.

Devolve on ure above; it, like a streaming matcos, casts

Who bids is lay our burthen down An univerfal light;

On his almighty hand, Sheds day, sheds more, eternal day

Softens out duty to relief, On nations whelm'd in right.

To blessing a command. Beneath that banger, what exploit

For joy what cause? how every serise Can mount our glory higher,

Is courted from above Than to sustain the dreadful blow,

The year around, with presents rich, When those we love expire?

The growth of endlet's love? Go forth a meral Amazon;

But most o'erlook the blessings pour'a, Arm'd with undauuted thought;

Forget the wonders done, The battle won, though costing dear,

And terminate, vrapp'd up in sense, You 'll think it cheaply bought;

Their prospect at the lun ; The passive here, who fits down

From thai, their final point of view, Unactive, and can smile

From that their radiant goal, Beneath affliction's galling load,

On travel infinite of thought, Out-acts a Cæfar's toil:

Sets out the nobler soul, The billows stain'd by laughter'd foes

Broke'loose from time's tenacious tie, Inserior praise afford;

And earth's involving gloom, Reason's a bloodless conqueror,

To range at last its vast domain, More glorious than the sword,

And talk with worlds to come: Nor can the thunders of huzzas

They let unmark'd, aud unemploy'd, From thouting nations, cause

Life's idle moments run; Such sweet delight, as from your heart

And, doing nothing for themlelyes, Soft whispers of applause :

Imagine nothing done, The dear deceas'd so fam'd in arms,

Fatal mistake! their fate goes on. With what delight he 'li view

Their dread account proceeds, His triumphs on the main outdone,

And their not-doing is let down Thus conquer'd, twice, by you,

Ainongst their darkest deeds;

Though man site ftill, and takes his ease;

God is at work ou man ;
No means, no moment ynemploy'd,

To bless him, if he can,
But man consents not, boldly bent

To fashion his own fate;
Man a mere bungler in the trade,

Repents his crime too late ;
Hence loud laments : let me thy cause,

Indulgenc Father! plead;
Of all the wretches we deplore,

Not one by thee was made.
What is the whole creation fait ?

Of lovi mi vine the child ;
Love brought it forth ; and from its birth,

Has o'er it fondly Imild:
Now, and through periods distant fas,

Long ere the world began,
Heaven is, and has in travel been,

Its birth the good of man ;
Man holds in constant service bound

The bluftering winds and seas;
Nor luns disdain to travel hard

Their master, man, to please : To final good the worst events

Through secret channels run;
Finish for man their destin'd courle,

As 'twas for man begun.
One point (observ'd, perhaps, by few)

Has often smote, and smites
My mind, as demonstration strong ;

That heaven in man delights :
What's known to man of things unseen,

Of future worlds, or fates ?
So much, 'nor more, than what to man's

Sublime affairs relates ;
What's Revelation then ? a lift,

An inventory just
Of that poor infect's goods, fo late

Call'd out of night and dust.
What various motives to rejoice!

To render joy fincere,
Has this no weight? our joy is felt

Beyond this narrow sphere;
Would we in heaven new heaven create

And double its delight?
A smiling world, when heaven looks down,

How pleasing in its fight!
Argels stoop forward from their thrones

To hear its joyful lays ;
As incense sweet en oy, and join,

Its aromatic praise :
Have we no cause to fear the stroke

Of heaven's avenging rod ?
When we presume to counteract

A sympathetic God?
If we resign, our patience makes

His rod an armless wand;
If not, it darts a lerpent's fting,

Like that in Moses' hand;

Like that, it swallows up wliate'er

Earth's vain magicians bring,
Whose baffled arts would boast below

Of joys a rival spring.
Cousuinmate love! the lift how large

Of blessings from thy hand!
To banith sorrow, and be blest,

Is thy supreme command.
Are such commands but ill obey'd?

Of bliss, fall we complain?
The man, who dares to be a wretch,

Deserves still greater pain,
Joy is our duty, glory, health ;

The sunshine of the soul ;
Our best encomium on the Power

Who sweetly plans the whole :
Joy is our Eden still pofless’d:

Be gone, ignoble grief!
'Tis joy makes gods, and men exalts,

Their nature, our relief;
Relief, for man to that must stoop,

And his due distance know;
Transport's the language of the skies,

Content the style below.
Content is joy, and joy in pain

Is joy and virtue too;
Thus, whilft good present we polles

More precious we pursue:
Of joy the more we have in hand,

The more have we to come;
Joy, like our money, intereft beats,

Which daily swells the sum.
" But how to smile; to stem the tide

“ of nature in our veins ;
“ Is it not hard to weep in joy?

• What then to smile in pains ?" Victorious joy! which breaks the clouds,

And struggles through a storm ;
Proclaims the mind as great, as good;

And bids it doubly charm:
If doubly charming in our sex,

A sex, by nature, bold;
What then in yours? 'tis diamond there,

Triumphant o'er our gold.
And should not this complaint repress?

And check the rising ligh?
Yet farther opiate to your pain

I labour to supply.
Since spirits greatly damp'd diftort

Ideas of delight,
Look through the medium of a friend,

Te let your notions right:
As tears the fight, grief dims the foul ;

Its object dark appears;
True friendship, like a rising sun,

The foul's horizon clears.
A friend's an optick to the mind

With sorrow clouded o'er;
And gives it strenzth of fight to see

Rediess unseen before.

Reason is somewhat rough in man;

Extremely smooth and fair,
When the, to grace her manly strength,

Assumes a fernaie air :
A * Friend you have, and I the same,

Whole prudent, soft address
Will bring to life those healing thoughts

Which dy'd in your distrels;
That friend, the spirit of my theme

Extracting for your ease,
Will leave to me the dieg, in thoughts

Too common; such as there;
Let those lament, to whom full bowls

Of sparkling joys are given;
That triple bane inebriates life,

Imbitters death, and hazards heaven: Woe to the soul at perfect ease!

'Tis brewing perfect pains; Lull'd reason fleeps, the pulse is king :

Despotic body reigns : Have you t ne'er pity'd joy's gay scenes,

And deern'd their giory dark ?
Alas! poor Envy! me's stone-blind,

And quite mistakes her mark :
Her mark lies hid in forrow's shades,

But forrow well subdued ;
And in proud fortune's frown defy'd

By meek, unborrow'd good.
By Resignation; all in that

A double friend may find,
wing to heaven, and, while on earth,

The pillow of mankind :
On pillows void of down, for reft

Our restless hopes we place ;
When hopes of heaven lie warm at heart,
Our hearts repole in peace:
The peace, which Refignation yields,

Who feel alone can guess : 'Tis disbeliev'd by murmuring minds,

They must conclude it less :

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From small experience this I speak;

O! grant to those I love
Experience fuller far, ye powers

Who form our fates abuve !
My love where due, if not to those

Who, leaving grandeur, came
To thire on a t in me.n tecels,

And lighe me to my theme!
A theme themselves! A theme, how sare!

The charms, which they display,
To triumph over captive beads,

Are set in bright array:
With bis own arms proud man's o'ercome,

His boasted laurels die:
Learcing and genius, wiler grown,

To female buloms fy.
This revolution, fix'd by fate,

In fable was foretold;
The dark prediction pizzled wits,

Nor could the learn'd unsold :
But as those * ladies works I read,

They darted such a ray,'
The latent sense burst out at once,

And thone in open day :
So burst, full ripe, diftended fiuits,

When strongly strikes the fun ;
And from the purple g rape unpreis di

Spontaneons nectars run.
Pallas, ('tis said) when Jove grew dull,

Forlook his drowly brain ;
And sprightly leap'd into the throne

Of wildom's brighter reign ;
Her helmet took; that is, Thut Tays

Of formidable wit;
And launce,-or, genius moft acute,

Which lines immortal writ;
And gorgon shield,---ot, power to fright

Man's folly, dreadful Thone,
And many a blockhead (eafy change !)

Turn’d, instantly, to stone.
Our authors male, as, then, did love,

Now scratch a damag'd head,
And call for what once quarter'd there,

But find the goddess filed.
The fruit of knowledge, golden fruit

That once forbidden tree,
Hedg'd-in by surly man,

To Britain's daughters free:
In Eve (we know) of fruit so fair

The noble thirit began;
And they, like her, have caus'd a fall,

A fall of fame in man:
And fince of genius in our sex,

0 Addison! with thee
The sun is set; how I re vice

This filter lamp to see!
It sheds, like Cynthia, filver beans

On man's noctur al state ;
His leflen'd ligit, and languid powers,
I show, whilft I relate,

* Mrs. Montague, Mrs. Cumer.


The loss, or gain, of th it alone

Have we to hope, or fear; That fate controls, and can invert

The reasons of the year : 0! the dark days, the year around,

of an impatient mind? Through clouds, and storms, a summer breaks,

To thine on the resign’d :
While man by that of every grace,

And virtue, is poffcs'd ;
Foul vice her pandemonium builds

In the relellious breast;
By Resignation we defeat

The worst that can anndy;
And suffer, with far moise repole,

Than worldlings can enjoy.

* Mrs. Níontigue.

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PART II. BUT what in either iex, beyord

All parts, our glory crowns ! “ In Tufling leatons to be calm,

“ And smile, when fortune frowns," Heaven's choice is safer than our own;

Of ages pait enquire,
What the most furipidable fate?

" To have our own defire.”
If, in your wrath, the worst of foes

you wish extremely ill;
Expose him to the thunder's stroke,

Os that of his own will.
What numbers, rushing down the steep

Of inclination strong,
Have perish'd in their ardent wish!

With ardent, ever wrong!
'Tis Resignation's full reverse,

Most wrong, as it implies
Error most fatal in our choice,

Detachment from the kies.
By clofing with the fkies, we make

Omnipotence our own;
That done, how formidable ill's

Whole army is o’erthrown?
No longer impotent, and frail,

Ourlelves above we rie :
We searce believe ourlelves below!

We trespals on the skies!
The Lord, the foul, and source of all,

Whilft man en oys his eale,
Is executing human will,

in earth, and air, and seas; Bezond us, what can Angels boaft?

Archangels what require ? Whate'er below, above, is done, Is done as-a

-----we defire. What glory this for man so mean,

Whole life is but a span? This is meridian ma elty!

This, the fublime of man! Beyond the boast of pagan song

My facred subject shines ! And for a foit the luitre takes

Of Rome's exalted lines. All, that the sun furveys, subdued,

“ But Cato's mighty mind.” How grand! most true ; yet far beneath

The foul of the Refign’d :
To more than kingdoms, more than worlds,

To pallion that gives law;
Its matchless empire could have kept

Great Cato's pride in awe ;
That fatal pride, whose cruel point

Transfix'd his noble breast;
Far nobler! If his fate luftain'd

Had left to Heaven the reft

Then be the palm had borne away,

At distance Cæfar thrown;
Put him off cheaply with the world,

And made the skies his own,
What cannot Relignation do?

It wonders can perform;
That powerful charm, " Thy will be done,”

Can lay the loudest storm.
Come, Resignation! then, from fields,

Where, mounted on the wing,
A wing of fame, bless'd Martyi's fouls

Ascended to their King :
Who is it calls chec? one whose need

Transcends the common size;
Who stands in front against a fue

To which none equal rice :,
In front he stands, the brink he treads

Of an eternal state;
How dreadful his appointed post !

How strongly arm'd by fate :
His threatening foe! what shadows deep

O'erwhelma his gloomy brow!
His dart tremendous !---at fourscore

My fole asylum, thou !
Hafte, then, o Refignation! hafte,

'Tis thine to reconcile
My foe, and me; at thy approaeh,

My foe begins to Imile:
O! for that fummit of my with,

Whilft bere I draw my breath,
That promise of eternal life,

A glorious liile in death :
What fight, Heaven’s azure arch beneath,

Has most of Heaven to boast ?
The man refign'd; at once serene,

And giving up the ghost.
At death's arrival they shall smile

Who, not in lie o'er gay,
Serious, and frequent thought send out

To meet him on his way
My gay Coævals! (such there are)

If happiness is dear;
Approaching death's alarming day

Discreetly let us fear:
The fear of death is truly wise,

Tili wisdom can riie hi her;
And, arm’d with pious fortitude,

Death dreaded once, delie :
Gland clinacteric vanities

The vaikeit will dine;
Shuckl, when beneath the snow of age,

Man immaturely dies:
But am not I myself the man?

No need abroad to roam
In que' of faults to be chastis'd

What cause to blush it home?
In life's declinè, when men relapse

Into the sports of youth,
The second child out-fools the first,

And tempts the lath of truth.

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Shalla mere truant from the grave

A fate how much to be deplor'd! With rival boys engage?

At which our nature statis; His trembling voice attempt to fing,

Forbear to fall on your own sword, And ape the pret's rage?

To perish by your parts : Here maidam ! let me visit one,

But great your name"-- To feed up air, My fault who, partly, snares,

Were then immortals born? And tell myself, by telling him,

Nothing is great, of which more great, What more becomes our years.

More glorious is the scorn. And if your breast with prudent zeal

Can fame your carcale from the wurms For Refignation glows,

Which gnaws us in the grave, You will not disapprove a just

Or soul from that which never dies, Resentment on its foes,

Applauding Europe fave? In youth, Voltaire ! our foibles plead

But fame you lose ; gond Tense alone For some indulgence due ;

Your idol, praise can claim ; When heads are white their thoughts and aims When wild wit murders happiness, Should change their colour too.

It puts to death our fame! How are you cheated by your wit !

Nor boast your genius, talents bright, Old age is bound to pay,

Ev'u dunces will despise, By nature's law a mind discreet,

If in your western beams is mils'd For joys it takes away ;

A genius for the skies; A mighty change is wrought by years,

Your taste too fails ; what most excels Reversing human lot;

True taste must relish most ! In age 'tis honor to lie hid,

And what, to rival palms above, Its praise to be forgot.

Can proudest laurels boaft? The wise, as flowers, which spread at noon,

Sound heads salvation's * helmet leek, And all their charms expose,

Resplendent are its rays,
When evening damps, and thades descend, Let that fuffice ; it needs no plume,
Their evolutions close.

Of fublunary praise.
What though your Muso has nobly soar’d, May this enable couch'd Voltaire,
Is that our true sublime?

To see that -- " All is right,"
Ours, hoary friend! is to prefer

His eye, by flash of wit struck blind, Eternity to time :

Reitoring to its fight; Why close a life so jusly fam'd

If so, all's well : who much have err'd, With such bold trash as * this?

That much have been forgiven; This for renown? yes, such as makes

I speak with joy, with joy he'll hear, Obcurity a bliss :

* Voltaires are, how, in heaven.'' Your trash, with mine, at open wat,

Nay, such philanthropy divine, Is t.obftinately bent,

So boundless in degree, Like wit: below, to low your tares

Its marvellous of love extends Of gloom and discontent;

(Stoop most profound !) to me : With so much funshine at command,

Let others eruel stars arraign, Why light with darkness mix ?

Or dwell on their distress; Why dash with pain our pleasure? why

But let my page, for mercies pour'd, Your Helicon with Styx?

A grateful heart express : Your works in our divided minds

Walking, the present God was seen Repugnant pallions raise,

Of old, in Eden fair ; Confound us with a double stroke,

The God as present, by plain steps We shudder whilst we praise ;

of providential care, A surious web, as finely wrought

I behold passing through my life ; As genius can inspire,

His awful voice I hear; From a black bag of poison spun,

And, conscious of my nakedness, With horror we admite.

Would hide myselt for fear : Mean as it is, if this is read

But where the trees, or where the clouds, With a disdainful air,

Can cover from his fight? I can't forgive so great a foe

Naked the center to that eye, To my dear friend Voltaire :

To which the fun is night. Early I knew him, early prais'd,

As yonder glittering lamps on high And long to praise him late;

Through night illumin'd roll; His genius greatly I admire,

May thoughts of him, by whom they thine, Nor would deplore his face ;

Chase darkness from my foul; pCandide. + Sered Paris Ephef: vi. 17. Which his ronance ridiculen

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