Heav'n's path is rough and intricate, they say, And man a wretch by his command plac'd here, Mistaken men, too piously severe ! Through craft misleading, or misled by fear; How little they God's counsels comprehend, Our universal parent, guardian, friend! Who, forming by degrees to bliss mankind, This globe our sportive nursery assign'd, Where for awhile his fond paternal care Feasts us with every joy our state can bear: Each sense, touch, taste, and smell dispense delight, Music our hearing, beauty charms our sight; Trees, herbs, and flow'rs to us their spoils resign, Its pearl the rock presents, its gold the mine; Beasts, fowl, and fish their daily tribute give Of food and cloaths, and die that we may Seasons but change, new pleasures to produce, And elements contend to serve our use: Love's gentle shafts, ambition's tow'ring wings, The pomps of senates, churches, courts, and kings, All that our rev'rence, joy, or hope create, Are the gay play-things of this infant state. Scarcely an ill to human life belongs, live: But what our follies cause, or mutual wrongs; Or if some stripes from Providence we feel, And wean us from delights that cannot last. Where bliss and virtue grow with like increase; From strength to strength our souls for ever guide, Through wond'rous scenes of being yet untry'd, Where in each stage we shall more perfect grow, And new perfections, new delights bestow. Oh! would mankind but make these truths their guide, And force the helm from prejudice and pride, Virtue our good, and happiness our end, How soon must reason o'er the world prevail, None would hereafter then with groundless fear Describe th' Almighty cruel and severe, Predestinating some without pretence To heav'n, and some to hell for no offence ; No more then nymphs, by long neglect grown nice, Would in one female frailty sum up vice, And censure those, who nearer to the right, No servile tenets would admittance find, And non-resistance to a tyrant's might : No moralists then, righteous to excess, Would show fair Virtue in so black a dress, No preachers in the terrible delight, But choose to win by reason, not affright; No more our ŝage interpreters of laws Would fatten on obscurities, and flaws, But rather, nobly careful of their trust, Strive to wipe off the long-contracted dust, And be, like HARDWICKE, guardians of the just. No more applause would on ambition wait, And laying waste the world be counted great; But one good-natur'd act more praises gain, Than armies overthrown, and thousands slain : No more would brutal rage disturb our peace, But envy, hatred, war, and discord cease; Our own and others' good each hour employ, And all things smile with universal joy; Virtue with Happiness her consort join'd, Would regulate and bless each human mind, And man be what his Maker first design'd. EPISTLE II. OF ACTIVE AND RETIRED LIFE. ΤΟ HENRY COVENTRY, ESQ. BY WILLIAM MELMOTH, ESQ; Meo quidem judicio neuter culpandus, alter dum expetit debitos titulos, dum alter mavult videri contempsisse. Plin. Ep. YES, you condemn those sages too refin'd, The passion's blameless, when the judgment's wise. Life's secret shade, or open walk is best : Each has its separate joys, and each its use : |