« EelmineJätka »
But thou of force must one religion own, And only one, and that the right alone. To find that right one, afk thy rev'rend fire; Let him of his, and him of his inquire; Tho' Truth and Falfehood feem as twins ally'd, There's eldership on Truth's delightful fide, Her feek with heed----who feeks the foundeft first, Is not of no religion, nor the worst. T'adore, or fcorn an image, or protest, May all be bad, doubt wifely for the best; 'Twere wrong to fleep, or headlong run aftray; It is not wand'ring, to inquire the way.
On a large mountain, at the basis wide, Steep to the top, and craggy at the fide, Sits facred Truth enthron'd; and he who means To reach the fummit, mounts with weary pains, Winds round and round, and ev'ry turn essays Where fudden breaks refift the fhorter ways. 110 Yet labour fo, that, ere faint age arrive, Thy fearching foul poffefs her reft alive; To work by twilight were to work to late, And age is twilight to the night of Fate. To will alone, is but to mean delay; To work at prefent is the use of day, For man's employ much thought and deed remain, High thoughts the foul, hard deeds the body ftrain: And mystries ask believing, which to view Like the fair fun, air plain, but dazzling too. 120
Be Truth, fo found, with facred heed poffeft, Not kings have pow'r to tear it from thy breast. By no blank charters harm they where they hate, Nor are they vicars, but the hands of Fate. Ah! fool and wretch, who lett'ft thy foul be ty’d To buman laws! or must it fo be try'd;
Or will it boot thee, at the latest day,
Pow'r, from above fubordinately spread,
So fares the foul, which more that pow'r reveres
ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage,
I die in charity with fool and knave,
"ELL; I may now receive, and die. My fin Indeed is great, but yet I have been in A purgatory, fuch as fear'd Hell is A recreation, and scant map of this.
Ver. 3 I die in charity with fool and knave,] We verily think he did. But of the caufe of his death, not only the doctors, but other people differed. His family fuggefts, that a general decay of nature, which had been long coming on, ended with a dropfy in the breaft. The gentlemen of the Dunciad maintain, that he fell by the keen pen of our redoubtable Laureat. We ourselves fhould be inclined to this latter opinion, for the fake of ornamenting his ftory; and that we might be able to say, that he died, like his immortal namefake, Alexander the Great, by a drug of fo deadly cold a nature, that, as Plutarch and other grave writers tell us, it could be contained in nothing but the fcull of an afs.---This is a grievous error. It was the hoof of an als; a much likelier vehicle of mischief.
With foolish pride my heart was never fir'd,
My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor hath
Poifon'd with love to fee or to be seen,
Therefore I fuffer'd this; towards me did run
Noah had refus'd it lodging in his ark,
Or Sloane or Woodward's wond'rous shelves contain,
Nay, all that lying travellers can feign.
Such was the wight; Th' apparel on his back, Tho' coarfe, was rev'rend, and tho' bare, was
The fuit, if by the fashion one might guess,
E'er bred, or all which into Noah's ark came :
Sir, by your priesthood tell me what you are? His clothes were ftrange, tho' courfe, and black, though bare,