The sounding names of High and Great,
The flatteries of the crowd.

When Gould commands his ships to run
And search the traffic of the sea,
His fleet o'ertakes the falling day,
And bears the western mines away,
Or richer spices from the rising sun;
While the glad tenants of the shore
Shout, and pronounce him senator,1

Yet still the man's the same:
For well the happy merchant knows
The soul with treasure never grows,
Nor swells with airy fame.

But trust me, Gould, 'tis lawful pride
To rise above the mean control

Of flesh and sense, to which we're tied;
This is ambition that becomes a soul.

We steer our course up through the skies;
Farewell this barren land:

We ken the heavenly shore with longing eyes,
There the dear wealth of spirits lies,
And beckoning angels stand.

1 Member of Parliament for a port in Sussex.

THE LIFE OF SOULS.

TO DR. THOMAS GIBSON.

SWIFT as the sun revolves the day,
We hasten to the dead,
Slaves to the wind, we puff away,
And to the ground we tread.
"Tis air that lends us life, when first
The vital billows heave:

Our flesh we borrow of the dust;
And when a mother's care has nurt

The babe to manly size, we must

Rich juleps drawn from precious ore
Still tend the dying flame :

And plants, and roots of barb'rous name,
Torn from the Indian shore.

Thus we support our tott'ring flesh,

Our cheeks resume the rose afresh, When bark and steel play well their game To save our sinking breath,

And Gibson, with his awful power,
Rescues the poor precarious hour

From the demands of death.

But art and nature, powers and charms,
And drugs, and recipes, and forms,
Yield us, at last, to greedy worms

A despicable prey ;

I'd have a life to call my own,

That shall depend on heaven alone;
Nor air, nor earth, nor sea

Mix their base essences with mine,
Nor claim dominion so divine

To give me leave to be.

Sure there's a mind within, that reigns
O'er the dull current of my veins;
I feel the inward pulse beat high
With vigorous immortality.

Let earth resume the flesh it gave,

And breath dissolve amongst the winds ;
Gibson, the things that fear a grave,
That I can lose, or you can save,
Are not akin to minds.

We claim acquaintance with the skies,
Upward our spirits hourly rise,

And there our thoughts employ :
When heaven shall sign our grand release,
We are no strangers to the place,

The business, or the joy.

FALSE GREATNESS.

MYLO, forbear to call him bless'd
That only boasts a large estate,
Should all the treasures of the west
Meet, and conspire to make him great.
I know thy better thoughts, I know
Thy reason can't descend so low.
Let a broad stream, with golden sands,
Through all his meadows roll,
He's but a wretch, with all his lands,
That wears a narrow soul.

He swells amidst his wealthy store,
And proudly poising what he weighs,
In his own scale he fondly lays
Huge heaps of shining ore.

He spreads the balance wide to hold
His manors and his farms,

And cheats the beam with loads of gold
He hugs between his arms.

So might the ploughboy climb a tree,
When Croesus mounts his throne,
And both stand up, and smile to see
How long their shadow's grown.
Alas! how vain their fancies be

To think that shape their own!

Thus mingled still with wealth and state,
Croesus himself can never know;

His true dimensions and his weight
Are far inferior to their show.
Were I so tall to reach the pole,
Or grasp the ocean with my span,
I must be measur'd by my soul:
The mind's the standard of the man.

AN EPISTLE.

TO SARISSA.

BEAR up, Sarissa, through the ruffling storms Of a vain vexing world: Tread down the cares, Those ragged thorns, that lie across the road, Nor spend a tear upon them. Trust the muse, She sings experienc'd truth: This briny dew, This rain of eyes, will make the briars grow. We travel through a desert, and our feet Have measur'd a fair space, have left behind A thousand dangers, and a thousand snares, Well 'scap'd. Adieu, ye horrors of the dark, Ye finish'd labours, and ye tedious toils Of days and hours: the twinge of real smart, And the false terrors of ill-boding dreams, Vanish together, be alike forgot,

For ever blended in one common grave.