The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse :: :: University of Virginia Library

That Pow'r which could confront a Pharaoh's pride,
And will, in love, all grateful Spirits guide—
That Wisdom—which so long let Sufferers weep,
A murrain sent among the Tyrant's sheep;
Thus, by his mix'd decrees, Man's hopes to mock,
And free the slighted Shepherd, slew the flock.
Nor yet, alone, ordain'd the flocks to die;
Earth bak'd like steel—like molten brass the sky—
Fair hopeful blades, in Spring's blythe season born,
Hot Summer crush'd, and kill'd the promis'd Corn—
The straw curtail'd made raving Monarch rail—
And stubble short made bricks decrease in tale;
While more events of Providence, conspir'd,
To further what was dreaded, yet desir'd!

This, all, from God, thro' govern'd folly, grew;
But Bond-slaves felt foul blame, before they flew—
Bore Egypt's weighty bondage, toil, and woe,
Till ruthless Tyrant urg'd, in haste, to go;
To bear unnumber'd crimes, but not their own,
Like banish'd Goats, in Hebrew ritual known—
Driv'n out, like Israel's host, from Goshen's land,
They wander'd back, by Despot's dread command,
But not by night, with silent, secret, stealth,
With borrow'd jewels, and Egyptian wealth—
With gains of artifice, or spoils of theft,
But small remains Economy had left!

Prudence and Cunning, much alike in make,
Arch Knaves of counterfeit, and Fools mistake,
But widely different are their varied views,
What one dispises t'other still pursues.
The objects, adverse, and unlike the end,
For one is Virtue's, t'other Vice's, Friend.
One follows Wisdom's, and one Folly's, way—
One plans defence, the other plots for prey:
And genuine Judgment nicely draws the line,
Between the sage reserve, and base design.

Prudence conducts her plans with cautious care;
But all her projects, and pursuits, are fair.
Protecting person, or procuring pelf,
She hurts no other to advantage Self—
Or seeking Honour, Influence, or Fame,
Her views, unravell'd, neither shock, nor shame.

Cunning feels no regard for other's good,
But just preserves a specious likelihood.
She never travels in a track direct,
Lest cool Discretion should her tricks detect;
But through the compass, tow'rds each point she shifts,
That no true Soul, concern'd, may mark her drifts:
Would wound all other's interest, health, or ease,
Herself to profit, or herself to please!
Cunning's a niggard—Prudence justly nice—
Prudence is Virtue—Cunning, crafty Vice—
Yet Cunning may sometimes be found profuse,
But 'tis to gain still more for graceless use.
Prudence may truly boast celestial birth,
But Cunning came from Hell to curse the Earth.
Prudence, in moral rules, by Wisdom taught,
Weighs all her words, and deeds, with wary thought,
Not watching others, basely to betray,
But lest herself should lose her heavenly way,

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Her circumspection springs from holy Love,
And always with the Serpent joins the Dove;
But Cunning plies proud Serpent's arts, alone,
Nor seeks one creature's interest save her own.
Cunning, still train'd in false infernal school,
Tho' always learning ends an arrant Fool;
For while she fondly aims the World to win,
She's dup'd by deeper subtilties of Sin;
Deceiving while deceiv'd by every Knave,
Till Satan cheats, at last, this choicest Slave!

School'd by Fiend Cunning, in her subtlest Art,
Crispin's false Friend perform'd her dextrous part,
And, to inflict a still severer scourge,
In spite of all pure Honesty could urge;
All Honour, Truth, Faith, Friendship, could aver,
A trick was tried, deep-dictated by Her,
With such success as all dark plots produce
When vicious views attempt some base abuse;
For Providence invariably destroys
All wicked projects of the Worldly-wise.