Poetical Exercises Written Upon Several Occasions Presented and Dedicated to Her Royal Highness, Mary Princess of Orange [by John Cutts] |
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Wisdom. |
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 | Poetical Exercises Written Upon Several Occasions |  |
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Wisdom.
Victorious Wisdom, whose supreme Command
Extends beyond the Bounds of Sea, and Land!
'Tis thou alone, that dost reward our Pains
With Pleasures that endure, and solid Gains.
But, oh! what art thou, and where dost thou dwell?
Not with the Hermite in his lonely Cell;
The sullen Fumes of whose distemper'd Brain
Make the dull Wretch torment himself in vain;
While of the World affectedly afraid,
He shuns the End for which Mankind was made.
Extends beyond the Bounds of Sea, and Land!
'Tis thou alone, that dost reward our Pains
With Pleasures that endure, and solid Gains.
But, oh! what art thou, and where dost thou dwell?
Not with the Hermite in his lonely Cell;
The sullen Fumes of whose distemper'd Brain
Make the dull Wretch torment himself in vain;
While of the World affectedly afraid,
He shuns the End for which Mankind was made.
Not with the Epicure in all his Pleasure;
Nor with the Miser on his Banks of Treasure:
The One's a Slave, bound fast in Golden Chains;
The Other buys short Joys with lasting Pains.
Nor with the Miser on his Banks of Treasure:
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The Other buys short Joys with lasting Pains.
Not in the vain pursuit of partial Fame,
The gaudy Outside of an empty Name;
When mov'd by Chance, not Merit, common Breath
Gives the false Shadow sudden Life or Death.
Honour when meritoriously assign'd
To Noble Actions, and a God-like Mind,
Is then indeed a Blessing sent from Heaven,
A bright Reward for Humane Labours given:
But when 'tis Fame's mistaken Flattery,
A blind Applause of Pride and Vanity,
The worthless Idol ought to be abhorr'd,
And is by none, but Knaves or Fools, ador'd.
The gaudy Outside of an empty Name;
When mov'd by Chance, not Merit, common Breath
Gives the false Shadow sudden Life or Death.
Honour when meritoriously assign'd
To Noble Actions, and a God-like Mind,
Is then indeed a Blessing sent from Heaven,
A bright Reward for Humane Labours given:
But when 'tis Fame's mistaken Flattery,
A blind Applause of Pride and Vanity,
The worthless Idol ought to be abhorr'd,
And is by none, but Knaves or Fools, ador'd.
Thus, as I'm searching with the feeble Light
Of Humane Reason, in dark Error's Night,
For what has oft escap'd the piercing Eye
Of lofty Wit, and deep Philosophy,
From the bright Regions of Eternal Day,
Methinks, I see a small but glorious Ray,
Dart swift as Light'ning through the yielding Air
To an unspotted Breast, and enter there.
Thrô every corner of the Heart it shines,
Subdues the Passions, and the Soul refines;
Leading it safe thrô all the dangerous Ways
Of this alluring World's mysterious Maze.
This is that Wisdom I so much adore;
Grant me but this, kind Heav'n; I ask no more.
This once obtain'd, how happy shall I be?
Kings will be little Men, compar'd to me;
They, in their own Dominions only Great,
I, Conqu'rour of the World, my Self and Fate.
Of Humane Reason, in dark Error's Night,
For what has oft escap'd the piercing Eye
Of lofty Wit, and deep Philosophy,
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Methinks, I see a small but glorious Ray,
Dart swift as Light'ning through the yielding Air
To an unspotted Breast, and enter there.
Thrô every corner of the Heart it shines,
Subdues the Passions, and the Soul refines;
Leading it safe thrô all the dangerous Ways
Of this alluring World's mysterious Maze.
This is that Wisdom I so much adore;
Grant me but this, kind Heav'n; I ask no more.
This once obtain'd, how happy shall I be?
Kings will be little Men, compar'd to me;
They, in their own Dominions only Great,
I, Conqu'rour of the World, my Self and Fate.
Thus arm'd, let Fortune use me as she will,
I stand prepar'd to meet with Good or Ill.
If I am born for Happiness and Ease,
And prosperous Gales salute the smiling Seas,
Those Paths I'le chuse, the blessing to repay,
Where Vertue calls, and Honour leads the way:
But if the Weather of my Life proves foul,
Tho' Storms arise, that make whole Kingdoms rowl,
Yet I must on; and 'spight of all their Force
I'le steer my Vessel her appointed Course;
With her firm Beak the Billows she'll divide,
And plow her Passage thro' the foaming Tyde.
I stand prepar'd to meet with Good or Ill.
If I am born for Happiness and Ease,
And prosperous Gales salute the smiling Seas,
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Where Vertue calls, and Honour leads the way:
But if the Weather of my Life proves foul,
Tho' Storms arise, that make whole Kingdoms rowl,
Yet I must on; and 'spight of all their Force
I'le steer my Vessel her appointed Course;
With her firm Beak the Billows she'll divide,
And plow her Passage thro' the foaming Tyde.
And at what Time, or in what Place so e're
The pale-fac'd Conquerour happens to appear;
Fierce as he is, his Violence I'le tame,
And make the King of Terrors change his Name.
While others enter trembling at his Gate,
I'le march up boldly in Triumphant State;
And passing thro' it into Worlds unknown,
Put on my Glorious Robes, and my Immortal Crown.
The pale-fac'd Conquerour happens to appear;
Fierce as he is, his Violence I'le tame,
And make the King of Terrors change his Name.
While others enter trembling at his Gate,
I'le march up boldly in Triumphant State;
And passing thro' it into Worlds unknown,
Put on my Glorious Robes, and my Immortal Crown.
| Poetical Exercises Written Upon Several Occasions | |