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289

Near Isis Spring, the Muses poor Retreat,
Palæmon dwelt in his unenvied Seat;
Whose little, but Hereditary Soil,
Answer'd his mod'rate Hopes, if not his Toil;
For Nature's Wants did modestly provide,
Content and Innocence the rest supply'd.
His Years declin'd, his Thoughts their manly Fire
Preserv'd, advancing as his Days retire.
None better knew or practis'd in his Cell
The chast Delights that in Retirement dwell,
That scorn the Golden Mansions of the Proud,
And fly the Haunts of the unhallow'd Croud;
Betimes he shun'd the beaten Roads of Strife,
And found the secret Track to peaceful Life.
Too Bless'd, if while his private Cares did cease,
No Fears had seiz'd him for his Country's Peace;
So strong the Guard of Vertues which he chose,
Fate had no other way to his Repose.
Religion He, and Loyalty, held dear;
Bigot in neither, tho in both Sincere,
In ev'ry Course by Truth and Sense did steer:
Did gen'rously his Rules for Practice draw
From Sacred Writ, and uncorrupted Law.
Of Church and Court th'Encroachments did survey;
In Priests and Statesmen found the same foul Play;
Both Functions saw alike by Int'rest sway'd,
Both grown a Cheat, for both were grown a Trade.

290

Philander, whom the Muses Charms had mov'd,
By Learn'd Palæmon's Rules his Vein improv'd,
And next the Muses his Palæmon lov'd.
His awful Steps with rev'rend distance trac'd,
Silence and Sacred Poverty embrac'd.
His sole Ambition to compose some Lay,
That might to Britain's Pollio force its way;
From his sharp-judging Patron gain a Smile,
And of an Hour the waiting State beguile.
In this alone he wrong'd the Publick Weal,
For which no Swain confess'd a warmer Zeal.
Opprest with Thought, one Ev'ning he repairs,
With his Palæmon, to concert his Cares:
Just then returning from his Ev'ning's Round,
His Farm's short Bounds, the good old Swain he found;
Who in his Arms brought home a new-ean'd Lamb,
A Firstling, but forsaken by its Dam.
The Youth with that unkindly Omen struck,
To vent his pensive Thoughts occasion took,
And thus began—