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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
Crispin's dissatisfaction Fame reveal'd—
He ne'er with care true sentiments conceal'd;
But friendly correspondence frankly led
To facts which Rumour's colloquies had spread,
That he again had tempting offers made
To leave his farm, and literary trade;
And when Heav'n opens advantageous views,
Prudence should ne'er demur, nor Faith refuse.
He ne'er with care true sentiments conceal'd;
But friendly correspondence frankly led
To facts which Rumour's colloquies had spread,
That he again had tempting offers made
To leave his farm, and literary trade;
And when Heav'n opens advantageous views,
Prudence should ne'er demur, nor Faith refuse.
With him Reserve was no prevailing Vice—
Candour's ne'er troubl'd long with tedious choice—
Ne'er, long, twixt opposite opinions halts,
Conceals its failures, or denies its faults.
Tho' not, at all times, like the Serpent, wise;
It ne'er puts on the Hypocrite's disguise;
But most resembles undesigning Doves,
As Nature prompts, it speaks, and looks, and loves!
Candour's ne'er troubl'd long with tedious choice—
Ne'er, long, twixt opposite opinions halts,
Conceals its failures, or denies its faults.
Tho' not, at all times, like the Serpent, wise;
It ne'er puts on the Hypocrite's disguise;
But most resembles undesigning Doves,
As Nature prompts, it speaks, and looks, and loves!
Reserve is, often, but a prim pretence
For want of Wit, Worth, Honesty, or Sense.
It may support, sometimes, prudential rules;
But oftener forms a cloak for Knaves or Fools.
Truth may by Puppies, Pimps, or Prudes, be blam'd,
But, as the proverb shows, can ne'er be sham'd—
May prove impertinent, in time, or place;
But ne'er incurs a criminal disgrace.
May mimic specious wit, or spurious taste;
But, when stark naked, never looks unchaste.
May Pride affront, or Affectation hurt,
But pains no Duty—pilfers no Desert.
May Priests, or Politicians, oft offend;
But proves good Pastor's, and good Patriot's, Friend.
May strip the Church, or stigmatize the Court;
Yet still true peace, and piety, support.
May make a Prelate storm—a Statesman wince—
With profligacy brand a spendthrift Prince—
Those fix'd on Thrones with Fools, or Misers, mix,
Yet never plots to play them slippery tricks.
Must trouble Bigots—weak Fanatics wound,
But shocks no genuine Faith, nor Doctrine sound.
Must Superstition's blind devotion blame,
But always leads to Heav'n from whence it came.
'Tis Reason's rule—Religion's best defence—
The track of Science, and the test of Sense—
Blest Revelation's fairest, surest, Friend;
The base on which pure Faith and Hope depend—
The dernier point where all Dispute should rest,
And leave in love and peace each happy breast!
For want of Wit, Worth, Honesty, or Sense.
It may support, sometimes, prudential rules;
But oftener forms a cloak for Knaves or Fools.
Truth may by Puppies, Pimps, or Prudes, be blam'd,
But, as the proverb shows, can ne'er be sham'd—
May prove impertinent, in time, or place;
But ne'er incurs a criminal disgrace.
May mimic specious wit, or spurious taste;
But, when stark naked, never looks unchaste.
May Pride affront, or Affectation hurt,
But pains no Duty—pilfers no Desert.
May Priests, or Politicians, oft offend;
But proves good Pastor's, and good Patriot's, Friend.
May strip the Church, or stigmatize the Court;
Yet still true peace, and piety, support.
May make a Prelate storm—a Statesman wince—
With profligacy brand a spendthrift Prince—
Those fix'd on Thrones with Fools, or Misers, mix,
Yet never plots to play them slippery tricks.
Must trouble Bigots—weak Fanatics wound,
But shocks no genuine Faith, nor Doctrine sound.
Must Superstition's blind devotion blame,
But always leads to Heav'n from whence it came.
'Tis Reason's rule—Religion's best defence—
The track of Science, and the test of Sense—
Blest Revelation's fairest, surest, Friend;
130
The dernier point where all Dispute should rest,
And leave in love and peace each happy breast!
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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |