Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Queen of all Virtues! for whate'er we call
Godlike and Great, 'tis thou obtain'st it all.
No Task too arduous for thy strong Essay,
And Art and Nature own thy potent Sway.
Inspir'd by thee to each superior Aim,
We press with Ardour thro' the Paths of Fame
Up to the sacred Top, and leave behind
Th' inglorious Crowd, the Herd of Humankind;
Whilst Wisdom round us pours her heav'nly Ray,
And old Experience guides our steady Way.
No anxious Cares, no furious Lusts controul
The free habitual Vigour of the Soul.

Each Part, each Station gracefully we fill,
And bend and shape our Fortune to our Will.

The Hero, down through ev'ry Age renown'd,
With Triumph, Praise, and glorious Titles crown'd,
By thee has gain'd his honourable Spoils,
And mighty Fame's atchiev'd by mighty Toils.
The Sage, whilst Learning studious he pursues,
By thee the stubborn Sciences subdues;
Through Truth's wide Fields expatiates unconfin'd,
And stores for ever his capacious Mind.
Nor seeks the low Degree thy Aid in vain,
The poor Mechanic and the lab'ring Swain;
Health, Peace, and sweet Content to these it brings;
More precious Prizes than the Wealth of Kings.

When whelming round us Death's sad Terrors roll,
'Tis thou speak'st Peace and Comfort to the Soul.

Then, if our recollecting Thoughts present
A well-plann'd Life in virtuous Labour spent;
If useful we have pass'd through every Stage,
And paid our Debt of Service to the Age;
If still we've made our Duty our Delight,
Nor hid our Master's Talent from our Sight,
All's well; 'tis all by our own Heart approv'd,
From hence we pass by God and Man belov'd;
Cheerful we pass, to Heav'n's high Will resign'd,
And leave a blessed Memory behind.

'Till all from thee, that rising by Degrees,
The Muse, this humble Muse attempts to please;
For this the just Materials to prepare,
She gleans with Patience, and digests with Care.
Like the small Bee, whom restless Labour leads
To range the Gardens and the painted Meads,

Pois'd on her tender Wings she joys to stray;
As artful Fancy points her various Way;
Works the rich Hints from each fair Form she meets,
And from a thousand Flow'rs extracts their Sweets;
Nor thinks at last the tedious Travel long,
If MIDDLESEX approve her finish'd Song.