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Can grave and formal pafs for wife,
When men the folemn owl defpife?
My tongue within my lips I rein;
For who talks much muft talk in vain.
We from the wordy torrent fly:
Who liftens to the chatt'ring pye?
Nor would I, with felonious flight,
By stealth invade my neighbour's right:
Rapacious animals we hate;

Kites, hawks, and wolves, deferve their fate.
Do not we just abhorrence find
Against the toad and ferpent kind?
But envy, calumny, and spite,
Bear stronger venom in their bite.
Thus ev'ry object of creation
Can furnish hints to contemplation
And, from the most minute and mean,
A virtuous mind can morals glean."

"Thy fame is juft," the fage replies;
"Thy virtue proves thee truly wife.
Pride often guides the author's pen,
Books as affected are as men:
But he who ftudies Nature's laws,

From certain truth his maxims draws;

And those, without our schools, fuffice

To make men moral, good, and wife.”

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GAT.

SECTION III.

The Road to Happiness open to all Men.

Oн Happiness! our being's end and aim!
Good, Pleasure, Eafe, Content! whate'er thy name;

That fomething till which prompts th' eternal figh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die e;
Which still fo near us, yet beyond us lies,
O'erlook'd, feen double, by the fool and wife;
Plant of celeftial feed, if dropt below,
Say, in what mortal foil thou deign'ft to grow?
Fair op'ning to fome court's propitious shrine,
Or deep with di'monds in the flaming mine?
Twin'd with the wreaths Parnaffian laurels yield,
Or reap'd in iron harvefts of the field?

Where grows? where grows it not? If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the foil.
Fix'd to no fpot is happiness fincere,

'Tis no where to be found, or ev'ry where ;
'Tis never to be bought, but always free;

And, fled from monarchs, St. John! dwells with thee.

Afk of the learn'd the way? The learn'd are blind; This bids to ferve, and that to fhun mankind; Some place the blifs in action, fome in case, Those call it pleasure, and contentment these : Some funk to beafts, find pleasure end in pain; Some fwell'd to gods, confefs ev'n virtue vain ; Or indolent, to each extreme they fall, To truft in ev'ry thing, or doubt of all. Who thus define it, say they more or lefs Than this, that happiness is happiness ?

Take Nature's path, and mad Opinion's leave; All ftates can reach it, and all heads conceive; Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell; There needs but thinking right, and meaning well And mourn our various portions as we please, Equal is Common Senfe, and Common Ease.

;

Remember, man, "the Universal Caufe "Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws;" And makes what happiness we justly call Subfift not in the good of one, but all.

POPE.

SECTION IV.

The Goodness of Providence.

THE Lord my pafture fhall prepare,
And feed me with a fhepherd's care;
His presence fhall my wants fupply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the fultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant;
To fertile vales, and dewy meads,
My weary wand'ring steps he leads,
Where peaceful rivers, foft and flow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in the paths of Death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart fhall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook fhall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful fhade.

Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I ftray,
Thy bounty fhall my pains beguile;
The barren wilderness fhall fmile,

With fudden greens and herbage crown'd,
And streams fhall murmur all around.

ADDISON.

SECTION V.

The Creator's Works atteft his Greatness.

THE fpacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And fpangled heav'ns, a fhining frame,
Their great Original proclaim:

Th' unwearied fun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay,
And publishes to ev'ry land,
The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the ev'ning fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And, nightly, to the lift'ning earth,
Repeats the ftory of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And fpread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!
What though nor real voice nor found,
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In Reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging as they fhine,
"The hand that made us is Divine."

ADDISON.

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O THOU! whofe balance does the mountains weigh;
Whofe will the wild tumultuous feas obey;
Whose breath can turn those watʼry worlds to flame,
That flame to tempeft, and that tempeft tame;
Earth's meanest fon, all trembling, proftrate falls,
And on the boundless of thy goodness calls.
O! give the winds all paft offence to sweep,
To fcatter wide, or bury in the deep.
Thy pow'r, my weakness, may I ever see,
And wholly dedicate my foul to thee.
Reign o'er my will; my paffions ebb and flow, I
At thy command, nor human motive know! 7
If anger boil, let anger be my praise,

And fin the graceful indignation raise.
My love be warm to fuccour the distress'd,
And lift the burden from the foul opprefs'd.
Oh may my understanding ever read

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This glorious volume which thy wisdom made!
May fea and land, and earth and heav'n be join'd,
To bring th' eternal Author to my mind!
When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll,
May thoughts of thy dread vengeance shake my foul!
When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly shine,
Adore, my heart, the Majefty divine!

Grant I may ever, at the morning-ray,
Open with pray'r the confecrated day;
Tune thy great praise, and bid my foul arise,
And with the mounting fun afcend the fkies;
As that advances, let my zeal improve,
And glow with ardour of confummate love;

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