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And with weak lights presumptuous scan
Those attributes which sink the brute.
From heaps of ill-collected gain,
Still baser through detecting years,
But when from proof, fair issuing forth, The ore asserts its native worth; Then, sov'reign Bard, 'tis justly thine To stamp the well-attested coin; And consecrated with thy name, To treasure in the stores of Fame.
TO A LADY.
By the Same.
CLARINDA, dearly lov'd, attend
Man may for wealth or glory roam, But woman must be blest at home; To this should all her studies tend, This her great object and her end. Distaste unmingled pleasures bring, And use can blunt affliction's sting; Hence perfect bliss no mortals know, And few are plung'd in utter woe; While nature arm'd against despair, Gives pow'r to mend, or strength to bear;
And half the thought content may gain, Which spleen employs to purchase pain.
Trace not the fair domestic plan,
Thy share alone is meant for thee;
Admit whatever trifles come, Units compose the largest sum: O! tell them o'er, and say how vain Are those which form ambition's train: Which swell the monarch's gorgeous state, And bribe to ill the guilty Great! But thou more blest, more wise than these, Shalt build up happiness on ease,
Hail sweet Content! where joy serene Gilds the mild soul's unruffled scene; And with blith fancy's pencil wrought, Spreads the white web of flowing thought; Shines lovely in the cheerful face,
And clothes each charm with native grace;
Effusion pure of bliss sincere,
Far other ornaments compose The garb that shrouds dissembled woes, Piec'd out with motley dies and sorts, Freaks, whimsies, festivals, and sports; The troubled mind's fantastic dress, Which madness titles happiness; While the gay wretch to revel bears The pale remains of sighs and tears: And seeks in crowds, like her undone, What only can be found in one,
But, chief, my gentle friend! remove
No friendly hand to lend its aid,