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From meaner Minds, thoʻ smaller Fines content
The (i) feftal Blazcs, the triumphal Show,
gret, From Age to Age in everlasting Debt, Wreaths which at last the dear-bought Right convey To ruft on Medals, or on Stones decay. On (k) what Foundation stands the Warrior's
Pride, How just his Hopes let Swedish Charles decide ; A Frame of Adamant, a Soul of Fire, No Dangers fright him, and no Labours tire; O'er Love, o'er Fear extends his wide Domaiin, Unconquer'd Lord of Pleasure and of Pain; No Joys to him pacific Scepters yield, War sounds the Trump, he rushes to the Field; Behold surrounding Kings their Pow'r combine, And one capitulate, and one refign; i Peace courts his Hand, but spreads her Charms in vain; • Think nothing gain’d, he cries, till Nought remain, 6) Ver. 133–146. (k) Ver. 147-16744
« On Moscow's Walls till Gothick Standards fly,
And all be mine beneath the polar Sky:' The March begins in military State, And Nations on his Eye suspended wait; Stern Famine guards the folitary Coast, And Winter barricades the Realm of Frost; He comes, not Want and Cold his Course delay Hide, bluihing Glory, hide Pultowa's Day: The vanquish'd Héro, leaves his broken Bands, And shews his Miseries in diftant Lands ; Condemn'd a needy Supplicant to wait, While Ladies interpose, and Slaves debate. But did not Chance at length her Error mend? Did no subverted Empire mark his End? Did rival Monarchs give the fatal Wound? Or hostile Millions press him to the Ground? His Fall was deftin'd to a barren Strand, A petty Fortress, and a dubious Hand; He left the Name, at which the World grew pale, To point a Moral, or adorn a Tale. All (?) Times their Scenes of pompous Woes af
ford, From Persia's Tyrant, to Bavaria's Lord. In gay Hostility, and barb'rous Pride, With half Mankind embattled at his Side, Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain Preys And ftarves exhausted Regions in his Way; Attendant Flate'ry counts his Myriads o'er, Till counted Myriads sooth his Pride no more ; Fresh Praise is try'd till Madness fires bis Mind, The Waves he lashes, and enchains the Wind; New Pow'rsare claim'd, new Pow'rs are still bestow'd, Till rude Resistance lops the spreading God; The daring Greek derides the martial Show, And heaps their Vallies with the gaudy Foe;
Th’insulted Sea with humbler Thoughts he gains, A single Skiff to speed his Flight remains ; Th’incumber'd Oar scarce leaves the dreaded Coast Through purple Billows and a floating Hoft.
The bold Bavarian, in a luckless Hour, Tries the dread Summits of Cesarean Pow'r, With unexpected Legions bursts away, And sees defenceless Realms receive his Sway; Short Sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful
Charms, The Queen, the Beauty, fets the World in Arms; From Hill to Hill the Beacons rousing blaze, Spreads wide the Hope of Plunder and of Praise: The fierce Croatian, and the wild Huar, And all the Sons of Ravage crowd the War ; The baffled Prince in Honour's fatt'ring Bloom Of hasty Greatness finds the fatal Doom, His Foes Derision, and his Subjects blame, And steals to Death from Anguish and from Shamee
Enlarge (m) my Life with Multitude of Days, In Health, and Sicknes, thus the Suppliant prays; Hides from himself his State, and shuns to know, That Life protracted, is protracted Woe. Tíme hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And suts up all the Paftages of Joy: In vain their Gifts the bounteous Seasons pour, The Fruit autumnal, and the vernal Flow'r, With liftless Eyes the Dotard views the Store, He views, and wonders that they please no more; Now pall the tasteless Meats, and joyless Wines, And Luxury with Sighs her Slave resigns. Approach, ye Minstrels, try the foothing Strain, And yield the tuneful Lenitives of Pain: No Sounds, alas, would touch ih'impervious Ear, Tho' dancing Mountains witness Orpheus near, (m) Ver. 188.--283.
Nor Lute nor Lyre his feeble Pow'r attend,
Unnumber'd Maladies his Joints invade,
But grant, the Virtues of a temp'rate Prime,
Yet ev’n on this her Load Misfortune flings,
Till pitying Nature signs the last Release,
But few there are whom Hours like these await,
The (n) teeming Mother, anxious for her Race; Begs for each Birth the Fortune of a Face: Yet Vane could tell what Ills from Beauty spring ; And Sedley curs'd the Form that pleas'd a King. Ye Nymphs of rosy Lips and radiant Eyes, Whom Pleasure keeps too busy to be wise, Whom Joys with soft Varieties invite, By Day the Frolick, and the Dance by Night, Who frown with Vanity, who smile with Art, And ask the latest Fashion of the Heart, What Care, what Rules your heedless Charms shall
save, Each Nymph your Rival, and each Youth your Slave? Against your Fame with Fondness Hate combines, The Rival batters, and the Lover mines. With distant Voice neglected Virtue calls, Less heard and less, the faint Remonstrance falls; Tir’d with Contempt, she quits the lip’ry Reigns And Pride and Prudence take her Seat in vain. In crowd at once, where none the Pass defend, The harmless Freedom, and the private Friend. The Guardians yield, by Force fuperior ply'd ; By Int'rest, Prudence; and by Flattery, Pride. Now Beauty falls betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, And hissing Infamy proclaims the reft.
(n) Ver. 289-345.