No longer prey upon our annual rents,
Or scare the nation with its big contents:
Difbanded legions freely might depart,
And flaying man would ceafe to be an art.
No learned difputants would take the field,
Sure not to conquer, and fure not to yield;
Both fides deceiv'd, if rightly understood,
Pelting each other for the public good.
Did charity prevail, the prefs would prove
A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love;
And I might spare myself the pains to fhow
What few can learn, and all fuppofe they know.
Thus have I fought to grace a ferious lay
With many a wild, indeed, but flow'ry fpray,
In hopes to gain, what else I must have loft,
Th' attention pleasure has fo much engross'd.
But if, unhappily deceiv'd, I dream,
And prove too weak for fo divine a theme,
Let Charity forgive me a mistake
That zeal, not vanity, has chanc'd to make,
And spare the poet for his subject's sake.
Nam neq; me tantum venientis fibilus auftri,
Nec percuffa juvant fluctú tam litora, nec quæ
Saxofas inter decurrunt flumina valles.
THOUGH nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To ev'ry man his modicum of fenfe,
And Converfation, in its better part,
May be esteem'd a gift and not an art,
Yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil,
On culture, and the sowing of the foil.
Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse,
But talking is not always to converse;
Not more distinct from harmony divine,
The conftant creaking of a country fign.
As alphabets in ivory employ,
Hour after hour, the yet unletter'd boy,
Sorting and puzzling with a deal of glee
Those feeds of fcience call'd his A B C;
So language in the mouths of the adult,
Witness its infignificant refult,
Too often proves an implement of play,
A toy to sport with and pass time away.
Collect at ev'ning what the day brought forth,
Comprefs the fum into its folid worth,
And, if it weigh th' importance of a fly,
The scales are false, or Algebra a lie.
Sacred interpreter of human thought,
How few respect or ufe thee as they ought!
But all shall give account of ev'ry wrong,
Who dare dishonour or defile the tongue;
Who prostitute it in the cause of vice,
Or fell their glory at a market-price;
Who vote for hire, or point it with lampoon
The dear-bought placeman, and the cheap buffoon,
There is a prurience in the speech of some, Wrath stays him, or else God would strike them dumb; His wife forbearance has their end in view;
They fill their measure, and receive their due.
The heathen law-givers of ancient days,
Names almoft worthy of a Christian's praise,
Would drive them forth from the refort of men,
And shut up ev'ry fatyr in his den.
Oh, come not ye near innocence and truth,
Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth!
Infectious as impure, your blighting pow'r
Taints in its rudiments the promis'd flow'r;
Its odour perifh'd and its charming hue,
Thenceforth 'tis hateful, for it fmells of you
Not ev'n the vigorous and headlong rage
Of adolefcence, or a firmer age,
Affords a plea allowable or just
For making fpeech the pamperer of luft;
But, when the breath of age commits the fault, 'Tis naufeous as the vapour of a vault.
So wither'd stumps disgrace the fylvan scene,
No longer fruitful, and no longer green;
The fapless wood, divefted of the bark,
Grows fungous, and takes fire at ev'ry spark.
Oaths terminate, as Paul obferves, all ftrifeSome men have furely then a peaceful life! Whatever fubject occupy discourse,
The feats of Veftris, or the naval force,
Affeveration, bluft'ring in your face,
Makes contradiction fuch an hopeless case:
In ev'ry tale they tell, or falfe or true,
Well known, or such as no man ever knew,
They fix attention, heedlefs of your pain,
With oaths, like rivets, forc'd into the brain;
And ev'n when fober truth prevails throughout,
They fwear it, 'till affirmance breeds a doubt.
A Perfian, humble fervant of the fun,
Who, though devout, yet bigotry had none,
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