Pleasure herself perhaps fuggefts a plea,
If intereft move thee, to perfuade ev'n thee:
By ev'ry charm that fmiles upon her face,
By joys poffefs'd, and joys ftill held in chace,
If dear fociety be worth a thought,
And if the feaft of freedom cloy thee not,
Reflect that thefe and all that feems thine own,
Held by the tenure of his will alone,
Like angels in the fervice of their Lord,
Remain with thee, or leave thee at his word;
That gratitude and temp'rance in our use
Of what he gives, unfparing and profuse,
Secure the favour and enhance the joy,
That thankless waste and wild abuse destroy.
But above all reflect, how cheap foe'er
Thofe rights that millions envy thee, appear,
And though resolv'd to risk them, and swim down
The tide of pleasure, heedless of his frown,
That bleffings truly facred, and when giv'n
Mark'd with the fignature and ftamp of heav'n,
The word of prophefy, thofe truths divine
Which make that heav'n if thou defire it thine
(Awful alternative! believ'd, belov'd,
Thy glory, and thy fhame if unimprov’d)
Are never long vouchfaf'd, if pufh'd aside
With cold difguft or philofophic pride,
And that judicially withdrawn, difgrace,
Error and darkness occupy their place.
A world is up in arms, and thou, a spot.
Not quickly found if negligently fought,
Thy foul as ample as thy bounds are small,
Endur'st the brunt, and dar'ft defy them all:
And wilt thou join to this bold enterprize
A bolder ftill, a conteft with the skies?
Remember, if he guard thee and fecure,
Whoe'er affails thee, thy fuccefs is fure;
But if he leave thee, though the skill and pow'r
Of nations fworn to spoil thee and devour,
Were all collected in thy fingle arm,
And thou couldst laugh away the fear of harm,
That ftrength would fail, oppos'd against the pufh
And feeble onset of a pigmy rush.
Say not (and if the thought of fuch defence
Should fpring within thy bofom, drive it thence).
What nation amongst all my foes is free
From crimes as bafe as any charg'd on me?,
Their measure fill'd-they too fhall pay the debt
Which God, though long forborn, will not forget;
But know, that wrath divine, when most severe,
Makes justice still the guide of his career,
And will not punish in one mingled crowd,
Them without light, and thee without a cloud.
Muse, hang this harp upon yon aged beech,
Still murm'ring with the folemn truths I teach,
And while, at intervals, a cold blast sings
Through the dry leaves, and pants upon the ftrings, My foul fhall figh in fecret, and lament
A nation fcourg'd, yet tardy to repent.
I know the warning fong is fung in vain,
That few will hear, and fewer heed the ftrain :
But if a fweeter voice, and one defign'd
A bleffing to my country and mankind,
Reclaim the wand'ring thousands, and bring home
A flock fo fcatter'd and fo wont to roam,
Then place it once again between my knees,
The found of truth will then be fure to please:
And truth alone, where'er my life be caft,
In scenes of plenty or the pining wafte,
Shall be
my chofen theme, my glory to the last.
doceas iter et facra oftia pandas.
ASK what is human life—the fage replies,
With disappointment low'ring in his eyes,.
A painful paffage o'er a reftlefs flood,
A vain pursuit of fugitive falfe good,
A scene of fancied blifs and heart-felt care,
Clofing at laft in darkness and defpair.-
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