Sternhold and Hopkins prefered to Pope, &c.

A. 'Twould thin the ranks of the poetic tribe, To dash the pen through all that you proscribe.

B. No matter we could shift when they were not; And should, no doubt, if they were all forgot.

=

THE

PROGRESS OF ERROR.

Si quid loquar audiendum. HoR. Lib. 4. Od. 2.

SING, muse, (if such a theme, so dark, so long,
May find a muse to grace it with a song)
By what unseen and unsuspected arts

The serpent error twines round human hearts;
Tell where she lurks, beneath what flow'ry shades,
That not a glimpse of genuine light pervades,
The pois'nous, black, insinuating worm
Successfully conceals her loathsome form.

The free Will of Man.

Take, if ye can, ye careless and supine, Counsel and caution from a voice like mine! Truths, that the theorist could never reach, And observation taught me, I would teach. Not all, whose eloquence the fancy fills, Musical as the chime of tinkling rills, Weak to perform, though mighty to pretend, Can trace her mazy windings to their end; Discern the fraud beneath the specious lure, Prevent the danger, or prescribe the cure. The clear harangue, and cold as it is clear, Falls soporific on the listless ear; Like quicksilver, the rhet'ric they display Shines as it runs, but, grasp'd at, slips away. Plac'd for his trial on this bustling stage, From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, Free in his will to choose or to refuse, Man may improve the crisis, or abuse; Else, on the fatalists unrighteous plan, Say, to what bar amenable were man?

Divine Authority his Guide.

With nought in charge, he could betray no trust;

And, if he fell, would fall because he must ;

If love reward him, or if

vengeance strike,

His recompense in both unjust alike.

Divine authority within his breast

Brings ev'ry thought, word, action, to the test;
Warns him or prompts, approves him or restrains,
As reason, or as passion, takes the reins.

Heav'n from above, and conscience from within,
Cries in his startled ear-Abstain from sin!
The world around solicits his desire,

And kindles in his soul a treach'rous fire;
While, all his purposes and steps to guard,
Peace follows virtue, as its sure reward;
And pleasure brings as surely in her train
Remorse, and sorrow, and vindictive pain.

Man, thus endued with an elective voice,
Must be supplied with objects of his choice.
Where'er he turns, enjoyment and delight,
Or present, or in prospect, meet his sight;

False Pleasures.

T

Those open on the spot their honey'd store;

These call him loudly to pursuit of more.
His unexhausted mine the sordid vice,

Avarice shows, and virtue is the price.

Here various motives his ambition raise-
Pow'r, pomp, and splendour, and the thirst of praise;
There beauty wooes him with expanded arms;
E'en Bacchanalian madness has its charms.

Nor these alone, whose pleasures, less refin'd,
Might well alarm the most unguarded mind,
Seek to supplant his inexperienc'd youth,
Or lead him devious from the path of truth;
Hourly allurements on his passions press,
Safe in themselves, but dang'rous in th' excess.
Hark! how it floats upon the dewy air!
O what a dying, dying close was there!
'Tis harmony from yon sequester'd bow'r,
Sweet harmony, that sooths the midnight hour!
Long ere the charioteer of day had run

His morning course, th' enchantment was begun ;