Mr. Cooke's Original Poems with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language |
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| 4. | EPISTLE the Fourth, To the honourable Lord George Johnston.
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 | Mr. Cooke's Original Poems |  |
75
EPISTLE the Fourth, To the honourable Lord George Johnston.
To you, my Lord, whose unexperienc'd Days
Have yet preserv'd you safe from venal Praise,
This Verse is due. The moral Lay attend,
And in the Poet prize a useful Friend.
Have yet preserv'd you safe from venal Praise,
This Verse is due. The moral Lay attend,
And in the Poet prize a useful Friend.
Say, noble Youth, while in a State of Ease
Your only Care is to be pleas'd and please,
What darling Subject now your Mind employs,
What Hopes you cherish of your future Joys?
Fortune, you say, has prov'd a bounteous Dame;
And pompous Titles shall adorn your Name;
Your Look 'e'relong shall overawe the proud,
And to your Levee throng the fawning Croud.
The Fair, and all your Appetites can crave,
You need but to desire, desire and have.
If to Delights like these your Heart's inclin'd,
Delights most obvious to the sensual Mind,
Know your Pursuit of Happyness is vain,
And all your Labour is to purchase Pain.
False Pride! that loves an humbled Slave to see,
That scorns, or hates you, while he bows the Knee;
And quickly fading is the Bliss we place,
And often fatal, in a lovely Face.
Your only Care is to be pleas'd and please,
What darling Subject now your Mind employs,
What Hopes you cherish of your future Joys?
Fortune, you say, has prov'd a bounteous Dame;
And pompous Titles shall adorn your Name;
Your Look 'e'relong shall overawe the proud,
And to your Levee throng the fawning Croud.
76
You need but to desire, desire and have.
If to Delights like these your Heart's inclin'd,
Delights most obvious to the sensual Mind,
Know your Pursuit of Happyness is vain,
And all your Labour is to purchase Pain.
False Pride! that loves an humbled Slave to see,
That scorns, or hates you, while he bows the Knee;
And quickly fading is the Bliss we place,
And often fatal, in a lovely Face.
Nature your Form has to Perfection wrought,
And bless'd you with a happy Cast of Thought;
In all you speak the Love of Truth appears,
A Genius rising far above your Years:
To these, which truly are your own, we join
The long Descent of an illustrious Line.
O! Youth belov'd, on whom the kindest Ray
Has shed an Influence from your natal Day,
Exert the Virtues you disclose so soon,
Nor let your Morn of Life disgrace your Noon.
If, when arriv'd to a maturer Age,
Gay Scenes of Folly should your Soul engage,
To check the better Seeds, and sink your Mind
Beneath the Dignity of human Kind,
In vain you boast the Glorys of your Line,
In vain the Fair, who bore you, near divine:
The Honours which your great Forefathers won
Wipe not a Stain from the degen'rate Son.
And bless'd you with a happy Cast of Thought;
In all you speak the Love of Truth appears,
A Genius rising far above your Years:
To these, which truly are your own, we join
The long Descent of an illustrious Line.
O! Youth belov'd, on whom the kindest Ray
Has shed an Influence from your natal Day,
Exert the Virtues you disclose so soon,
Nor let your Morn of Life disgrace your Noon.
If, when arriv'd to a maturer Age,
Gay Scenes of Folly should your Soul engage,
To check the better Seeds, and sink your Mind
Beneath the Dignity of human Kind,
77
In vain the Fair, who bore you, near divine:
The Honours which your great Forefathers won
Wipe not a Stain from the degen'rate Son.
Now is the Time your Knowledge to encrease,
From the rich Stores of antient Rome and Greece:
Should those immortal Works your Breast inspire,
With a resistless Heat, to reach their Fire,
Never be vicious in your Hours of Wit,
Avoid the Rock where Wilmot's Genius split;
Nor Innocence with scurril Jokes blaspheme,
Nor ever wanton with a sacred Theme:
Methods like those true Genius will despise;
Such Men of Wit are never deem'd the wise.
From the rich Stores of antient Rome and Greece:
Should those immortal Works your Breast inspire,
With a resistless Heat, to reach their Fire,
Never be vicious in your Hours of Wit,
Avoid the Rock where Wilmot's Genius split;
Nor Innocence with scurril Jokes blaspheme,
Nor ever wanton with a sacred Theme:
Methods like those true Genius will despise;
Such Men of Wit are never deem'd the wise.
When form'd to Man be cautious whom you trust,
The Knave of Talents, nor the Fool tho just:
What from the Frankness of your Soul you say
The Fool may tattel, and the Knave betray.
The Knave of Talents, nor the Fool tho just:
What from the Frankness of your Soul you say
The Fool may tattel, and the Knave betray.
In Judgement ripe and fit to aid the State,
To shine in Arms, or end the fierce Debate,
On bright Examples stedfast fix your Eyes,
And emulating them resolve to rise.
When Rome was great, and her Augustus young,
Mæcenas councel'd, and a Horace sung;
Not less thy Pow'r, nor, Britain, less thy Fame,
Who o'er thy Counsels boast as great a Name;
Like him my Lord, like Cav'ndish, nobly strive
New Arts to cherish, and the old revive.
Let Pembroke, foremost of the Sons of Truth,
To all that's worthy Praise direct your Youth;
His Life instructs you better far to live
Than all the Precepts Socrates could give.
Like Cart'ret, Glory to his native Isle,
Be all your Joy to make your Country smile;
If, fir'd by Worth like his, you gain a Name
On Merit founded, and the Pride of Fame,
When, be it late, among your Sires you sleep,
Virtue, and Learning, and the Muse, shall weep.
To shine in Arms, or end the fierce Debate,
On bright Examples stedfast fix your Eyes,
And emulating them resolve to rise.
78
Mæcenas councel'd, and a Horace sung;
Not less thy Pow'r, nor, Britain, less thy Fame,
Who o'er thy Counsels boast as great a Name;
Like him my Lord, like Cav'ndish, nobly strive
New Arts to cherish, and the old revive.
Let Pembroke, foremost of the Sons of Truth,
To all that's worthy Praise direct your Youth;
His Life instructs you better far to live
Than all the Precepts Socrates could give.
Like Cart'ret, Glory to his native Isle,
Be all your Joy to make your Country smile;
If, fir'd by Worth like his, you gain a Name
On Merit founded, and the Pride of Fame,
When, be it late, among your Sires you sleep,
Virtue, and Learning, and the Muse, shall weep.
Nov. 1728.
| Mr. Cooke's Original Poems | |