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Let a broad ftream with golden fands
Thro' all his meadows roll,

He's but a wretch with all his lands

That wears a narrow foul.

II.

He fwells amidst his wealthy ftore,
And proudly poizing what he weighs
In his own scale he fondly lays
Huge heaps of fhining ore :

He spreads the balance wide to hold
His manors and his farms,

And cheats the beam with loads of gold
He hugs between his arms.

So might the ploughboy climb a tree
When Crofus mounts his throne,
And both stand up and fmile to fee
How long their fhadow's grown:
Alas! how vain their fancies be
To think that shape their own!

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III.

Thus mingled ftill with wealth and state
Cræfus himself can never know;

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His true dimenfions and his weight
Are far inferiour to their show.
Were I fo tall to reach the pole,
Or grafp the ocean with my fpan,
I must be measur'd by my foul:

The mind's the ftandard of the man.

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To Sariffa. An epiftle.

BEAR Up, Sariffa, thro' the ruffling storms
Of a vain vexing world; tread down the cares,
Thofe rugged thorns that lie across the road,
Nor spend a tear upon them. Trust the Mufe,
She fings experienc'd truth: this briny dew,
This rain of eyes, will make the briers grow.
We travel thro' a defert, and our feet
Have measur'd a fair space, have left behind
A thousand dangers and a thousand fnares
Well fcap'd. Adieu ye horrours of the dark,
Ye finish'd labours and ye tedious toils
Of days and hours; the twinge of real fmart
And the falfe terrours of illboding dreams
Vanish together; be alike forgot,
For ever blended in one common grave.

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Farewell ye waxing and ye waning moons That we have watch'd behind the flying clouds On night's dark hill or setting or afcending, Or in meridian height: then filence reign'd O'er half the world, then ye beheld our tears, Ye witness'd our complaints, our kindred groans, (Sad harmony!) while with your beamy horns Or richer orb ye filver'd o'er the green Where trod our feet, and lent a feeble light To mourners. Now ye have fulfill'd Thofe hours are fled. Farewell months that are gone

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Are gone for ever, and have borne away

Each his own load. Our woes and forrows past,
Mountainous woes! ftill leffen as they fly

Far off. So billows in a ftormy sea,

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Wave after wave (a long fucceffion) roll
Beyond the ken of fight; the failors fafe

Look far aftern till they have lost the storm,
And fhout their boifl'rous joys. A gentler Mufe
Sings thy dear fafety, and commands thy cares
To dark oblivion, bury'd deep in night;
Lose them Sariffa, and affift my fong.

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Awake thy voice, fing how the flender line Of Fate's immortal Now divides the paît From all the future with eternal bars, Forbidding a return. The paft temptations No more fhall vex us; ev'ry grief we feel Shortens the deftin'd number, ev'ry pulfe Beats a fharp moment of the pain away, And the laft ftroke will come. By fwift degrees 45 Time fweeps us off, and we shall foon arrive

At life's fweet period. O celeftial point

That ends this mortal iory!

But if a glimpfe of light with flatt'ring ray Breaks thro' the clouds of life, or wand'ring fire 50

Amidft the fhades invite your

Beware the dancing meteor,

doubtful feet,

faithlefs guide

That leads the lonefome pilgrim wide aftray
To bogs, and fens, and pits, and certain death!

Should vicious Pleasure take an angel form,
And at a distance rife by flow degrees,

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Treach'rous to wind herself into your heart,
Stand firm aloof, nor let the gaudy phantom
Too long allure your gaze: the juft delight
That Heav'n indulges lawful must obey
Superiour pow'rs, nor tempt your thoughts too far
In flavery to fenfe, nor fwell your hope

To dang'rous fize: if it approach your feet
And court your hand forbid th' intruding joy
To fit too near your heart; ftill may our fouls
Claim kindred with the fkies, nor mix with duft
Our better born affections; leave the globe,

A neft for worms, and haften to our home.

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O! there are gardens of th' immortal kind That crown the heav'nly Eden's rifing hills With beauty and with sweets; no lurking mischief Dwells in the fruit, nor ferpent twines the boughs; The branches bend laden with life and bliss,

Ripe for the taste, but 't is a steep ascent :

Hold faft the golden chain * let down from heav'n, 75 'Twill help your feet and wings: I feel its force Draw upwards; faîten'd to the pearly gate

It guides the way unerring; happy clue

'Thro' this dark wild! 'Twas Wisdom's nobleft work All join'd by Pow'r divine, and ev'ry link is love. 80

*The gospel.

To Mr. T. Bradbury.

Paradife, 1708.

I.

YOUNG as I am I quit the ftage,

Nor will I know th' applaufes of the age:
Farewell to growing fame. I leave below
A life not half worn out with cares

Or agonies or years;

I leave my country all in tears,

But Heav'n demands me upward, and I dare to go. Amongst ye, friends, divide and share

The remnant of my days,

If ye have patience, and can bear

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A long fatigue of life, and drudge thro' all the race.

II.

Hark! my fair guardian chides my stay

And waves his golden rod;

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Angel, I come, lead on the way."

And now by fwift degrees

I fail aloft thro' azure feas,

Now tread the Milky road.

Farewell ye planets in your spheres,

And as the stars are loft a brighter sky appears.

In hafte for Paradife

I ftretch the pinions of a bolder thought;

Scarce had I will'd but I was paft

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Deferts of trackless light and all th' ethereal waste, And to the facred borders brought;

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