EPISTLE XIII. ΤΟ MR. POPE. By the Same. HEAVEN in the human breast implants With hunger prompts to strength'ning food, These to their objects strait convey, Yet in one centre should unite, But some there are who rigid blame The mind that thirsts for righteous fame And with weak lights presumptuous scan Those attributes which sink the brute. From heaps of ill-collected gain, With Erskine, pious exile, goes, Still baser through detecting years, The speckled counterfeit appears. 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. EPISTLE XIV. 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, Trace not the fair domestic plan, From what you would, but what you can! Nor, peevish, spurn the scanty store, Because you think you merit more! Bliss ever differs in degree, Thy share alone is meant for thee; And thou should'st think, however small, 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; |