« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
Life is fort and miserable.
H! Few and full of Sorrew are the Days
Of miserable Man : His Life decays
Like that frail Flower, which with the Sun's uprise,
Her Bud unfolds, and with the Evening dies :
He, like an empty Shadow glides away,
And all his Life is but a Winter's Day
On the diligent Ants.
Ants in Battalia to their Cells convey,
The plunderd Forage of their yellow Prey ;
The little Drudges trột about, and sweat,
But will not strait devour all that they get ;
For in their Mouths we see them carry home,
A Stock for Winter, which they know must come.
On the Aibeijt.
Bold is the Wretch, and blafphemous the Man,
Who being finite, will attempt to scan
The Works of him, that's intivitely wise,
And those he cannot comprehend denies :
Our Reason is too weak a Guide to thew,
How God Almighty governs all below.
A Future State certain.
Bravc Youths the Paths of Virtue ftill should tread,
And not by Error's devicu: Tinct be led ;
Till free from Filth, and ipotless is their Mind,
their Life, and of th' Erherial Kind :
For this we must believe, whene'er we die,
We fink to Hell, or else to Heaven fly.
By Travel crown the Arts, and learn abroad,
The gen'ral Virtues, which the Wile applaud ;
To ftudy Nations, I advise betimes,
And various Kingdoms know, and various Climes:
*Vhatever worthy thy Remarks thou seeft,
Care remember, and forget the ret.
Christ's Arms do still stand
All weary Prodigals, that Sin do leave ;
For them he left his Father's bleft Abode ;
Made Son of Man, to make Man Son of God:
To cure their Wounds, he Life's Elixir bled,
And dy'd a Death to raise them from the Dead.
Conceited Thoughts, indulg'd without Controul,
Exclude all future Knowledge from the Soul:
For he, that thinks himself already wise,
In course, all further Knowledge will despise :
And but for this, how many might have been
Juft, reputable, wise, and honeit Men !
On Death. Death at a Distance we but slightly fear, He brings his Terrors as he draws more near : Through Poverty, Pain, Slav'ry, we drudge on, The worst of Beings better please than none: No Price too dear to purchase Life and Breath, The heavieft Burthen's casier born than Death.
Dazzled with Hope, we cannot fee the Cheat
Of aiming with Impatience to be great.
When wild Ambition in the Heart we find,
Farewel Content, and Quiet of the Mind :
For glitt'ring Clouds, we leave the fobid Shore,
And wonted Happiness returns no more.
On the Soldier.
Eager the Soldier meets his defp'rate Pos,
With an Intent to give his fatal Blow;
The Cause he fights for, animates him high ;
Namely, Religion, and dear Liberty :
For these he conquers, or more bravely dics,
And yields himself a willing Sacrifice.
On the Resurrection.
From ev'ry Corner of th' extended Earth,
The scatter'd Duit is call’d to second Birth;
The sever'd Budy now unites agaili,
And kindred Atoms rally into Men,
The various Joints resume their antient Seats,
And ev'ry Limb its foriner Task repeats.
Fragrant the Rose is, but it fades in time;
The Violet sweet, but quickly past the Prime;
White Lilies hang their Heads, and foon decay;
And whiter Snow in Minutes melts away:
Such and so with’ring are our early Joys,
Which Time, or Sickness, speedily deitroys.
The Duty of Minn.
First to our God, we must with Rev'rence bow,
The second Honour to our Prince we owe ;
Next to Wives, Parents, Children, fit Respect,
And to our Friends and Kindred we direct:
Then we muft those, who groan beneath the Weight
Of Age, Disease, or Want, commiferate.
From my Beginning, may th’Almighty Powers,
Bleffings bestow in never-cealing Showers;
Oh ! may I happy be, and always bleft !
Of ev'ry Joy, of ev'ry Wish poffefs'd!
May Plenty difipate all worldly Cares,
And smiling Peace bless my revolving Years!
From stately Palaces we must remove,
The narrow Lodgings of a Grave to prove
Leave the fair Train, and the light gilded Room,
To lie alone benighted in the Tomb.
God only is Immortal ; Man not fo:
Life, to be paid upon Demand, we owe.
On boneft Labour. Go to the Plough or Team; Go Hedge or Ditch, Some honest Calling use, no matter which; Be Porter, Poftman, take the laböring Oar; Employment keeps the Bailifts from the Door: Though thou be mean, thy frugal Induftry, Depend upon it, thall rewarded be.
Heaven is our. Guard, and Innocence its Care,
Nor need the Juit tire worst of Dangers fear:
It pities the defenseless
Man's Grief, And sends him, when he calls, Help and Relief: Its Arm, the surest Succour, and the best, Delivers and revenges the Distress'd.
On an Active Life: Happy is he, the only happy Mán, Who out of Choice, does all the Good lie can; Who Business loves, and others better makes, By prudent Industry, and Pains he takes : God's Bleffing here he'll have, and Man's Efteem, And, when he dies, his works will follow him.
In all Misfortunes, this Advantage lies,
They make us humble, and they make us wise:
Let's bear it calmly, tho' a grievous Woe,
And still adore the Hand that gives the Blow;
And he that can acquire such Virtue, gains
An ample Recompenso for all his Pains.
On CHRIST our Life.
I am the Refurrection, faith the Lord ;
Eternal Life's the. Fruit of my eternal Word;
Whoever firmly does in me believe,
The Grave shall not confme, nor Hell receive : -
Nor only this; but thold, that will rely
On what I teach, fali nerer never die...
On King GEORG E.
Long may the King Great Britain's Scepter fway.
While all his Subjects peaceably obey :
And when God's Providence shall him remove
From these below, to higheit Realms above ;
To his own Race, may he the Crown resign,
For ever to continue in that Line.
On the Scripture.
Let facred Writings always be admir'd,
Whose holy Penmen truly were inspir’d;
Through all succeeding Times, both worst and best,
They have run down, and born the strictest Teft.
A Spirit there, in ev'ry Line we see,
Of Hope, Love, Joy, and Immortality.
On a Competency.
Let me, O God, my Labours so employ,
That I a Competency may enjoy ;
I ask no more, than my Life’s Wants supply,
And leave their Due to others when I die ;
If this thou 'grant (which nothing doubt I can)
None ever liv'd or dy'd a richer Man.
On the Fall of Man.
Man was by Heaven made to govern all,
But how unfit, demonstrates in his Fall ;
Created pure, and with a Strength endu'd,
Of Grace divine, sufficient to have stood ;
But alienate from God, he soon became
The Child of Wrath, Pride, Misery, and Shame.
On the Sceptic.
No Providence the Sceptic will allow,
Then let th’ ungrateful Mortal tell me, how
His tender Infancy Protection found,
And how his Childhood was with Safety crown'd !
How through his Youth he came to manly Years,
ugh many Dangers, which he sees and fears!