The Amaranth Or, religious poems; consisting of fables, visions, emblems, etc. Adorned with copper-plates from the best masters [by Walter Harte] |
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 | The Amaranth |  |
165
In ancient times, scarce talk'd of, and less known,
When pious Justin fill'd the Eastern throne,
In a small dorp till then for nothing fam'd,
And by the neighb'ring swains Thebaïs nam'd,
Eulogius liv'd: an humble mason he;
In nothing rich, but virtuous poverty.
From noise and riot he devoutly kept,
Sigh'd with the sick, and with the mourner wept;
Half his earn'd pittance to poor neighbours went:
They had his alms, and he had his content.
Still from his little he could something spare
To feed the hungry, and to cloathe the bare.
He gave, whilst aught he had, and knew no bounds;
The poor man's drachma stood for rich men's pounds.
He learnt with patience, and with meekness taught;
His life was but the comment of his thought.
Hence, ye vain-glorious Shaftesburys, allow
That men had more religion then than now.
Whether they nearer liv'd to the blest times
When man's Redeemer bled for human crimes;
Whether the Hermits of the Desart fraught
With living practice, by example taught;
Or whether, with transmissive virtues fir'd,
[Which Chrysostoms all-eloquent inspir'd,]
They caught the sacred flame—I spare to say.
Religion's Sun still shot an ev'ning-ray.
When pious Justin fill'd the Eastern throne,
In a small dorp till then for nothing fam'd,
And by the neighb'ring swains Thebaïs nam'd,
Eulogius liv'd: an humble mason he;
In nothing rich, but virtuous poverty.
From noise and riot he devoutly kept,
Sigh'd with the sick, and with the mourner wept;
Half his earn'd pittance to poor neighbours went:
They had his alms, and he had his content.
Still from his little he could something spare
To feed the hungry, and to cloathe the bare.
He gave, whilst aught he had, and knew no bounds;
The poor man's drachma stood for rich men's pounds.
He learnt with patience, and with meekness taught;
His life was but the comment of his thought.
166
That men had more religion then than now.
Whether they nearer liv'd to the blest times
When man's Redeemer bled for human crimes;
Whether the Hermits of the Desart fraught
With living practice, by example taught;
Or whether, with transmissive virtues fir'd,
[Which Chrysostoms all-eloquent inspir'd,]
They caught the sacred flame—I spare to say.
Religion's Sun still shot an ev'ning-ray.
On the south aspect of a sloping hill,
Whose skirts meand'ring Peneus washes still,
Our pious lab'rer pass'd his youthful days
In peace and charity, in pray'r and praise.
No theatres of oaks around him rise,
Whose roots earth's centre touch, whose heads the skies:
No stately larch-tree there expands a shade
O'er half a rood of Larisséan glade:
No lofty poplars catch the murm'ring breeze,
Which loit'ring whispers on the cloud-capp'd trees;
Such imag'ry of greatness ill became
A nameless dwelling, and an unknown name!
Instead of forest-monarchs, and their train,
The un-ambitious rose bedeck'd the plain:
Trifoliate cytisus restrain'd its boughs
For humble sheep to crop, and goats to browze.
On skirting heights thick stood the clust'ring vine,
And here and there the sweet-leav'd eglantine;
One lilac only, with a statelier grace,
Presum'd to claim the oak's and cedar's place,
And, looking round him with a monarch's care,
Spread his exalted boughs to wave in air.
Whose skirts meand'ring Peneus washes still,
Our pious lab'rer pass'd his youthful days
In peace and charity, in pray'r and praise.
No theatres of oaks around him rise,
Whose roots earth's centre touch, whose heads the skies:
No stately larch-tree there expands a shade
O'er half a rood of Larisséan glade:
167
Which loit'ring whispers on the cloud-capp'd trees;
Such imag'ry of greatness ill became
A nameless dwelling, and an unknown name!
Instead of forest-monarchs, and their train,
The un-ambitious rose bedeck'd the plain:
Trifoliate cytisus restrain'd its boughs
For humble sheep to crop, and goats to browze.
On skirting heights thick stood the clust'ring vine,
And here and there the sweet-leav'd eglantine;
One lilac only, with a statelier grace,
Presum'd to claim the oak's and cedar's place,
And, looking round him with a monarch's care,
Spread his exalted boughs to wave in air.
This spot, for dwelling fit, Eulogius chose,
And in a month a decent home-stall rose,
Something, between a cottage and a cell.—
Yet virtue here could sleep, and peace could dwell.
From living stone, [but not of Parian rocks]
He chipp'd his pavement, and he squar'd his blocks:
And then, without the aid of neighbours' art,
Perform'd the carpenter's and glazier's part.
The site was neither granted him, nor giv'n;
'Twas nature's; and the ground-rent due to Heav'n.
Wife he had none: Nor had he love to spare;
An aged mother wanted all his care.
They thank'd their Maker for a pittance sent,
Supp'd on a turnip, slept upon content.
And in a month a decent home-stall rose,
Something, between a cottage and a cell.—
Yet virtue here could sleep, and peace could dwell.
168
He chipp'd his pavement, and he squar'd his blocks:
And then, without the aid of neighbours' art,
Perform'd the carpenter's and glazier's part.
The site was neither granted him, nor giv'n;
'Twas nature's; and the ground-rent due to Heav'n.
Wife he had none: Nor had he love to spare;
An aged mother wanted all his care.
They thank'd their Maker for a pittance sent,
Supp'd on a turnip, slept upon content.
Four rooms, above, below, this mansion grac'd,
With white-wash deckt, and river-sand o'er-cast:
The first, [forgive my verse if too diffuse,]
Perform'd the kitchin's and the parlour's use:
The second, better bolted and immur'd,
From wolves his out-door family secur'd:
[For he had twice three kids, besides their dams;
A cow, a spaniel, and two fav'rite lambs:]
A third, with herbs perfum'd, and rushes spread,
Held, for his mother's use, a feather'd bed:
Two moss-matrasses in the fourth were shown;
One for himself, for friends and pilgrims one.
With white-wash deckt, and river-sand o'er-cast:
The first, [forgive my verse if too diffuse,]
Perform'd the kitchin's and the parlour's use:
The second, better bolted and immur'd,
From wolves his out-door family secur'd:
[For he had twice three kids, besides their dams;
A cow, a spaniel, and two fav'rite lambs:]
169
Held, for his mother's use, a feather'd bed:
Two moss-matrasses in the fourth were shown;
One for himself, for friends and pilgrims one.
A ground-plot square five hives of bees contains;
Emblems of industry and virtuous gains !
Pilaster'd jas'mines 'twixt the windows grew,
With lavendar beneath, and sage and rue.
Pulse of all kinds diffus'd their od'rous pow'rs,
Where nature pencils butterflies on flow'rs:
Nor were the cole-worts wanting, nor the root
Which after-ages call Hybernian fruit.
There, at a wish, much chamomile was had;
[The conscience of man's stomach good or bad;]
Spoon-wort was there, scorbutics to supply;
And centaury to clear the jaundic'd eye;
And That
, which on the Baptist's vigil sends
To nymphs and swains the vision of their friends.
Else physical and kitchin-plants alone
His skill acknowledge, and his culture own.
Each herb he knew, that works or good or ill,
More learn'd than Mesva , half as learn'd as Hill;
For great the man, and useful, without doubt,
Who seasons pottage—or expells the gout;
Whose science keeps life in, and keeps death out!
Emblems of industry and virtuous gains !
Pilaster'd jas'mines 'twixt the windows grew,
With lavendar beneath, and sage and rue.
Pulse of all kinds diffus'd their od'rous pow'rs,
Where nature pencils butterflies on flow'rs:
Nor were the cole-worts wanting, nor the root
Which after-ages call Hybernian fruit.
There, at a wish, much chamomile was had;
[The conscience of man's stomach good or bad;]
Spoon-wort was there, scorbutics to supply;
And centaury to clear the jaundic'd eye;
170
To nymphs and swains the vision of their friends.
Else physical and kitchin-plants alone
His skill acknowledge, and his culture own.
Each herb he knew, that works or good or ill,
More learn'd than Mesva , half as learn'd as Hill;
For great the man, and useful, without doubt,
Who seasons pottage—or expells the gout;
Whose science keeps life in, and keeps death out!
No flesh from market-towns our peasant sought;
He rear'd his frugal meat, but never bought:
A kid sometimes for festivals he slew:
The choicer part was his sick neighbour's due:
Two bacon-flitches made his Sunday's chear;
Some the Poor had, and some out-liv'd the year:
For roots and herbage, [rais'd at hours to spare]
With humble milk, compos'd his usual fare.
[The poor man then was rich, and liv'd with glee;
Each barley-head un-taxt, and day-light free:]
All had a part in all the rest could spare,
The common water , and the common air .
He rear'd his frugal meat, but never bought:
A kid sometimes for festivals he slew:
The choicer part was his sick neighbour's due:
Two bacon-flitches made his Sunday's chear;
Some the Poor had, and some out-liv'd the year:
171
With humble milk, compos'd his usual fare.
[The poor man then was rich, and liv'd with glee;
Each barley-head un-taxt, and day-light free:]
All had a part in all the rest could spare,
The common water , and the common air .
Mean-while God's blessings made Eulogius thrive,
The happiest, most contented man alive.
His conscience chear'd him with a life well-spent,
His prudence a superfluous something lent,
Which made the poor who took, and Poor who gave, content.
Alternate were his labours and his rest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.
Such kindness-left men nothing to require,
Prevented wishing, and out-ran desire.
He sought, not to prolong poor lives, but save:
And That which others lend, he always gave.
Us'ry, a canker in fair Virtue's rose,
Corrodes, and blasts the blossom e'er it blows:
So fierce, O Lucre, and so keen thy edge:—
Thou tak'st the poor man's mill-stones for a pledge !
The happiest, most contented man alive.
His conscience chear'd him with a life well-spent,
His prudence a superfluous something lent,
Which made the poor who took, and Poor who gave, content.
Alternate were his labours and his rest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.
172
Prevented wishing, and out-ran desire.
He sought, not to prolong poor lives, but save:
And That which others lend, he always gave.
Us'ry, a canker in fair Virtue's rose,
Corrodes, and blasts the blossom e'er it blows:
So fierce, O Lucre, and so keen thy edge:—
Thou tak'st the poor man's mill-stones for a pledge !
Eusebius, hermit of a neighb'ring cell,
His brother-christian mark'd, and knew him well:
With zeal un-envying, and with transport fir'd,
Beheld him, prais'd him, lov'd him, and admir'd.
Convinc'd, that noiseless piety might dwell
In secular retreats, and flourish well;
And that Heav'n's King [so great a Master He]
Had servants ev'ry-where, of each degree.
“All-gracious Pow'r,” he cries, “for-forty years
“I've liv'd an anchorete in pray'rs and tears:
“Yon' spring, which bubbles from the mountain's side,
“Has all the luxury of thirst supply'd:
“The roots of thistles have my hunger fed,
“Two roods of cultur'd barley give me bread,
“A rock my pillow, and green moss my bed.
“The mid-night-clock attests my fervent pray'rs,
“The rising Sun my orisons declares,
“The live-long day my aspirations knows,
“And with the setting sun my vespers close!
“Thy truth, my hope: Thy Providence, my guard:
“Thy Grace, my strength: Thy Heav'n, my last reward!”
“But, self-devoted from the prime of youth
“To life sequester'd, and ascetic truth,
“With fasting mortify'd, worn out with tears,
“And bent beneath the load of sev'nty years,
“I nothing from my industry can gain
“To ease the poor man's wants, or sick man's pain:
“My garden takes up half my daily care,
“And my field asks the minutes I can spare;
“While blest Eulogius from his pittance gives
“The better half, and in true practice lives.
“Heav'n is but cheaply serv'd with words and show,
“I want that glorious virtue—To BESTOW!
“True Christianity depends on fact:
“Religion is not theory, but act.
“Men, Seraphs, all, Eulogius' praise proclaim,
“Who lends both sight and feet to blind and lame.
“Who soothes th'asperity of hunger's sighs,
“And dissipates the tear from mournful eyes;
“Pilgrims or wand'ring angels entertains;
“Like pious Abraham on Mamre's plains.
“Ev'n to brute beasts his righteous care extends
,
“He feels their suff'rings, and their wants befriends;
“From one small source so many bounties spring,
“We lose the peasant, and suppose a king;
“A king of Heav'n's own stamp, not vulgar make;
“Blessed in giving, and averse to take!
“Not such my pow'r! Half-useless doom'd to live,
“Pray'rs and advice are all I have to give:
“But all, whate'er my means or strength deny,
“The virtues of Eulogius can supply.
“Each, in the compass of his pow'r, he serves;
“Nor ever from his gen'rous purpose swerves:
“Ev'n enemies to his protection run,
“Sure of his light, as of the rising sun.
“What pity is it that so great a soul,
“An heart so bountiful, should feel controul?
“Warm in it self, by icy fortune dampt,
“And in the effort of exertion crampt;
“Beneficent to all men, just, and true:
“As nature bounteous, and impartial too.
“Thus sometimes have I seen an angel's mind
“In a weak body wretchedly confin'd:
“A mind, O Constantine, which from thy throne
“Can take no honours, and yet add her own!
His brother-christian mark'd, and knew him well:
With zeal un-envying, and with transport fir'd,
Beheld him, prais'd him, lov'd him, and admir'd.
Convinc'd, that noiseless piety might dwell
In secular retreats, and flourish well;
And that Heav'n's King [so great a Master He]
Had servants ev'ry-where, of each degree.
173
“I've liv'd an anchorete in pray'rs and tears:
“Yon' spring, which bubbles from the mountain's side,
“Has all the luxury of thirst supply'd:
“The roots of thistles have my hunger fed,
“Two roods of cultur'd barley give me bread,
“A rock my pillow, and green moss my bed.
“The mid-night-clock attests my fervent pray'rs,
“The rising Sun my orisons declares,
“The live-long day my aspirations knows,
“And with the setting sun my vespers close!
“Thy truth, my hope: Thy Providence, my guard:
“Thy Grace, my strength: Thy Heav'n, my last reward!”
“But, self-devoted from the prime of youth
“To life sequester'd, and ascetic truth,
174
“And bent beneath the load of sev'nty years,
“I nothing from my industry can gain
“To ease the poor man's wants, or sick man's pain:
“My garden takes up half my daily care,
“And my field asks the minutes I can spare;
“While blest Eulogius from his pittance gives
“The better half, and in true practice lives.
“Heav'n is but cheaply serv'd with words and show,
“I want that glorious virtue—To BESTOW!
“True Christianity depends on fact:
“Religion is not theory, but act.
“Men, Seraphs, all, Eulogius' praise proclaim,
“Who lends both sight and feet to blind and lame.
“Who soothes th'asperity of hunger's sighs,
“And dissipates the tear from mournful eyes;
“Pilgrims or wand'ring angels entertains;
“Like pious Abraham on Mamre's plains.
175
“He feels their suff'rings, and their wants befriends;
“From one small source so many bounties spring,
“We lose the peasant, and suppose a king;
“A king of Heav'n's own stamp, not vulgar make;
“Blessed in giving, and averse to take!
“Not such my pow'r! Half-useless doom'd to live,
“Pray'rs and advice are all I have to give:
“But all, whate'er my means or strength deny,
“The virtues of Eulogius can supply.
“Each, in the compass of his pow'r, he serves;
“Nor ever from his gen'rous purpose swerves:
“Ev'n enemies to his protection run,
“Sure of his light, as of the rising sun.
“What pity is it that so great a soul,
“An heart so bountiful, should feel controul?
176
“And in the effort of exertion crampt;
“Beneficent to all men, just, and true:
“As nature bounteous, and impartial too.
“Thus sometimes have I seen an angel's mind
“In a weak body wretchedly confin'd:
“A mind, O Constantine, which from thy throne
“Can take no honours, and yet add her own!
“Then hear me, gracious Heav'n, and grant my pray'r;
“Make yonder man the fav'rite of thy care:
“Nourish the plant with thy celestial dew,
“Like manna let it fall, and still be new:
“Expand the blossoms of his gen'rous mind,
“Till the rich odour reaches half mankind.
“Give him Bizantium's wealth, which useless shines,
“Sicilian plenty, and the Indian mines;
“Instead of Peneus, let Pactolus lave
“His garden's precincts with a golden wave;
“Then may his soul its free-born range enjoy,
“Give deed to will, and ev'ry pow'r employ:
“In him the Sick a second Luke shall find;
“Orphans and widows, to his care consign'd,
“Shall bless the father, and the husband kind:
“Just steward of the bounty he receiv'd,
“And dying poorer than the poor reliev'd!”
“Make yonder man the fav'rite of thy care:
“Nourish the plant with thy celestial dew,
“Like manna let it fall, and still be new:
“Expand the blossoms of his gen'rous mind,
“Till the rich odour reaches half mankind.
“Give him Bizantium's wealth, which useless shines,
“Sicilian plenty, and the Indian mines;
177
“His garden's precincts with a golden wave;
“Then may his soul its free-born range enjoy,
“Give deed to will, and ev'ry pow'r employ:
“In him the Sick a second Luke shall find;
“Orphans and widows, to his care consign'd,
“Shall bless the father, and the husband kind:
“Just steward of the bounty he receiv'd,
“And dying poorer than the poor reliev'd!”
So pray'd he, whilst an angel's voice from high
Bade him surcease to importune the sky:
Fate stopp'd his ears in an ill-omen'd day,
And the winds bore the warning sounds away;
Wild indistinction did their place supply;
Half-heard, half-lost, th'imperfect accents die.
Little fore-saw he that th'Almighty Pow'r,
Who feeds the Faithful at his chosen hour,
Consults not taste, but wholesomeness of food,
Nor means to please their sense, but do them good.
Great was the miracle, and fitter too,
When draughts from Cheriths's brook Elijah drew :
And wing'd purveyors his sharp hunger fed
With frugal scraps of flesh, and maslin-bread .
On quails the humble prophet's pride might swell,
And high-fed lux'ry prompt him to rebell.
Bade him surcease to importune the sky:
Fate stopp'd his ears in an ill-omen'd day,
And the winds bore the warning sounds away;
Wild indistinction did their place supply;
Half-heard, half-lost, th'imperfect accents die.
Little fore-saw he that th'Almighty Pow'r,
Who feeds the Faithful at his chosen hour,
178
Nor means to please their sense, but do them good.
Great was the miracle, and fitter too,
When draughts from Cheriths's brook Elijah drew :
And wing'd purveyors his sharp hunger fed
With frugal scraps of flesh, and maslin-bread .
On quails the humble prophet's pride might swell,
And high-fed lux'ry prompt him to rebell.
Nor dreamt our anchorete, that, if his friend
Should reach, O virtuous Poverty! thy end,
That conscience and religion soon might fly
To some forsaken clime and distant sky.
Should reach, O virtuous Poverty! thy end,
179
To some forsaken clime and distant sky.
Ign'rant of happiness, and blind to ruin,
How oft are our petitions our undoing!
How oft are our petitions our undoing!
Jeptha, with grateful sense of vict'ry fir'd,
Made a rash vow, and thought the vow inspir'd:
In piety the First, his Daughter ran,
To hail with duteous voice the conqu'ring Man:
Well-meaning, but unconscious of her doom,
She sought a blessing, and she found a tomb !
Made a rash vow, and thought the vow inspir'd:
In piety the First, his Daughter ran,
To hail with duteous voice the conqu'ring Man:
Well-meaning, but unconscious of her doom,
She sought a blessing, and she found a tomb !
The Pow'r Supreme, [my Author so declares,]
Heard with concern the erring Hermit's pray'rs;
Heard dis-approving; but at length enclin'd
To give a living lesson to mankind;
That men thence-forward should submissive live;
And leave Omniscience the free pow'r to give.—
For wealth or poverty, on man bestow'd,
Alike are blessings from the hand of God!
How often is the soul ensnar'd by health?
How poor in virtue is the man of wealth?
Heard with concern the erring Hermit's pray'rs;
Heard dis-approving; but at length enclin'd
To give a living lesson to mankind;
That men thence-forward should submissive live;
And leave Omniscience the free pow'r to give.—
180
Alike are blessings from the hand of God!
How often is the soul ensnar'd by health?
How poor in virtue is the man of wealth?
The Hermit's pray'r permitted, not approv'd;—
Soon in an higher sphere Eulogius mov'd:
Each sluice of affluent fortune open'd soon,
And wealth flow'd in at morning, night, and noon.
Soon in an higher sphere Eulogius mov'd:
Each sluice of affluent fortune open'd soon,
And wealth flow'd in at morning, night, and noon.
One day, in turning some uncultur'd ground,
[In hopes a free-stone quarry might be found,]
His mattock met resistance, and behold
A casket burst, with di'monds fill'd and gold.
He cramm'd his pockets with the precious store,
And ev'ry night review'd it o'er and o'er;
Till a gay conscious pride, unknown as yet,
Touch'd a vain heart, and taught it to forget:
And, what still more his stagg'ring virtue try'd,
His mother, tut'ress of that virtue, dy'd.
[In hopes a free-stone quarry might be found,]
His mattock met resistance, and behold
A casket burst, with di'monds fill'd and gold.
He cramm'd his pockets with the precious store,
And ev'ry night review'd it o'er and o'er;
Till a gay conscious pride, unknown as yet,
Touch'd a vain heart, and taught it to forget:
And, what still more his stagg'ring virtue try'd,
His mother, tut'ress of that virtue, dy'd.
181
A neighb'ring matron, not unknown to fame,
[Historians give her Teraminta's name,]
The parent of the needy and distress'd,
With large demesnes and well-sav'd treasure blest;
[For like th'Egyptian Prince she hoarded store
To feed at periodic dearths the poor;]
This matron, whiten'd with good works and age,
Approach'd the sabbath of her pilgrimage;
Her spirit to himself th'Almighty drew;—
Breath'd on th'alembic, and exhal'd the dew.
In souls prepar'd, the passage is a breath
From time t'eternity, from life to death .
But first, to make the Poor her future care,
She left the good Eulogius for her heir.
[Historians give her Teraminta's name,]
The parent of the needy and distress'd,
With large demesnes and well-sav'd treasure blest;
[For like th'Egyptian Prince she hoarded store
To feed at periodic dearths the poor;]
This matron, whiten'd with good works and age,
Approach'd the sabbath of her pilgrimage;
Her spirit to himself th'Almighty drew;—
Breath'd on th'alembic, and exhal'd the dew.
In souls prepar'd, the passage is a breath
From time t'eternity, from life to death .
But first, to make the Poor her future care,
She left the good Eulogius for her heir.
182
Who but Eulogius now exults for joy?
New thoughts, new hopes, new views his mind employ.
Pride push'd forth buds at ev'ry branching shoot,
And virtue shrunk almost beneath the root.
High-rais'd on fortune's hill, new Alps he spies,
O'ershoots the valley which beneath him lies,
Forgets the depths between, and travels with his eyes.
New thoughts, new hopes, new views his mind employ.
Pride push'd forth buds at ev'ry branching shoot,
And virtue shrunk almost beneath the root.
High-rais'd on fortune's hill, new Alps he spies,
O'ershoots the valley which beneath him lies,
Forgets the depths between, and travels with his eyes.
The Tempter saw the danger in a trice,
[For the man slidder'd upon fortune's ice:]
And, having found a corpse half-dead, half-warm,
Reviv'd it, and assum'd a courtier's form:
Swift to Thebaïs urg'd his airy flight;
And measur'd half the globe in half a night.
[For the man slidder'd upon fortune's ice:]
And, having found a corpse half-dead, half-warm,
Reviv'd it, and assum'd a courtier's form:
Swift to Thebaïs urg'd his airy flight;
And measur'd half the globe in half a night.
With flowing manners exquisitely feign'd,
And accent soft, he soon admission gain'd:
Survey'd each out-work well, and mark'd apart
Each winding avenue that reach'd the heart;
Displaying, like th'illusive Fiend of old,
Thrones deckt with gems, and realms of living gold .
Bad spirits oft intrude upon the Good;
Adonis' grot near Christ's presepio stood .
And accent soft, he soon admission gain'd:
Survey'd each out-work well, and mark'd apart
Each winding avenue that reach'd the heart;
183
Thrones deckt with gems, and realms of living gold .
Bad spirits oft intrude upon the Good;
Adonis' grot near Christ's presepio stood .
Th'artificer of fraud, [tho' here he fail'd,]
Strait chang'd approaches, and the ear assail'd;
This only chink accessible he finds;
For flatt'ry's oil pervades ev'n virtuous minds.
Virtue, like towns well-fortify'd by art,
Has [spite of fore-sight] one deficient part.
Strait chang'd approaches, and the ear assail'd;
This only chink accessible he finds;
For flatt'ry's oil pervades ev'n virtuous minds.
Virtue, like towns well-fortify'd by art,
Has [spite of fore-sight] one deficient part.
With lenient artifice, and fluent tongue,
[For on his lips the dews of Hybla hung,]
Libanius-like , he play'd the sophist's part,
And by soft marches stole upon the heart:
Maintain'd that station gave new birth to sense,
And call'd forth manners, courage, eloquence:
Then touch'd with spritely dashes here and there,
[Correctly strong, yet seeming void of care,]
The master-topic, which may most men move,
The charms of beauty and the joys of love!
Eulogius faulter'd at the first alarms,
And soon the 'waken'd passions buzz'd to arms;
Nature the clam'rous bell of discord rung,
And vices from dark caverns swift up sprung.
So, when hell's monarch did his summons make,
The slumb'ring demons started from the lake.
[For on his lips the dews of Hybla hung,]
Libanius-like , he play'd the sophist's part,
And by soft marches stole upon the heart:
184
And call'd forth manners, courage, eloquence:
Then touch'd with spritely dashes here and there,
[Correctly strong, yet seeming void of care,]
The master-topic, which may most men move,
The charms of beauty and the joys of love!
Eulogius faulter'd at the first alarms,
And soon the 'waken'd passions buzz'd to arms;
Nature the clam'rous bell of discord rung,
And vices from dark caverns swift up sprung.
So, when hell's monarch did his summons make,
The slumb'ring demons started from the lake.
Eulogius saw with pride, or seem'd to see,
[Not yet in act, but in the pow'r to be,]
Great merit lurking dormant in his mind:
He had been negligent—but Nature kind:
Till by degrees the vain, deluded elf,
Grew out of humour with his former self.
He thought his cottage small, and built in haste;
It had convenience, but it wanted taste.
His mien was aukward; graces he had none;
Provincial were his notions and his tone;
His manners emblems of his own rough stone.
[Not yet in act, but in the pow'r to be,]
Great merit lurking dormant in his mind:
He had been negligent—but Nature kind:
Till by degrees the vain, deluded elf,
Grew out of humour with his former self.
185
It had convenience, but it wanted taste.
His mien was aukward; graces he had none;
Provincial were his notions and his tone;
His manners emblems of his own rough stone.
Then, slavish copyist of his copying friend,
He ap'd him without skill, and without end:
Larissa's gutturals convuls'd his throat;
He smooth'd his voice to the Bizántine note.
With courtly suppleness un-furl'd his face;
Or screw'd it to the bonne mine of grimace;
With dignity he sneez'd, and cough'd with grace.
The pious mason once, had time no more
To mark the wants and mis'ry of the poor!
Suspicious thoughts his pensive mind employ,
A sullen gratitude, and clouded joy.
In days of poverty his heart was light:
He sung his hymns at morning, noon, and night.
Want sharpens poesy, and grief adorns;
The spink chaunts sweetest in a hedge of thorns .
Tir'd of an house too little for his pride,
Tir'd of himself, and country-friends beside,
He sometimes thought to build a mansion, fit
For state, and people it with men of wit;
Knowing [by fame] small poets, small musicians,
Small painters, and still smaller politicians;
Nor was the fee of ten-score minæ wanting,
To purchase taste in building and in planting.
He ap'd him without skill, and without end:
Larissa's gutturals convuls'd his throat;
He smooth'd his voice to the Bizántine note.
With courtly suppleness un-furl'd his face;
Or screw'd it to the bonne mine of grimace;
With dignity he sneez'd, and cough'd with grace.
The pious mason once, had time no more
To mark the wants and mis'ry of the poor!
Suspicious thoughts his pensive mind employ,
A sullen gratitude, and clouded joy.
In days of poverty his heart was light:
He sung his hymns at morning, noon, and night.
186
The spink chaunts sweetest in a hedge of thorns .
Tir'd of an house too little for his pride,
Tir'd of himself, and country-friends beside,
He sometimes thought to build a mansion, fit
For state, and people it with men of wit;
Knowing [by fame] small poets, small musicians,
Small painters, and still smaller politicians;
Nor was the fee of ten-score minæ wanting,
To purchase taste in building and in planting.
A critic too he was, and rul'd the stage;
The fashionable judgement of his age:
When Crito once a panegyric show'd,
He beat him with a staff of his own ode.
Ah what, he cry'd, are Pindar's flights to me?
I love soft home-made sing song, duty-free.
Write me the style that Lords and Ladies speak;
Or give me Pastorals in Doric Greek:
I read not for instruction, but for ease;
The opium of the pen is sure to please:
Where limpid streams are clear, and sun-shine bright;
Where woos and coos, and loves and doves unite:
Where simply-married epithets are seen,
With gentle Hyphen keeping peace between.
Whipt cream; unfortify'd with wine or sense!
Froth'd by the slattern-muse, indifference;
And deck'd [as after-ages more shall see]
With poor hedge-flow'rs, y-clept simplicity!
Pert, and yet dull; tawdry and mean withall;
Fools for the future will it nature call.
The fashionable judgement of his age:
When Crito once a panegyric show'd,
He beat him with a staff of his own ode.
187
I love soft home-made sing song, duty-free.
Write me the style that Lords and Ladies speak;
Or give me Pastorals in Doric Greek:
I read not for instruction, but for ease;
The opium of the pen is sure to please:
Where limpid streams are clear, and sun-shine bright;
Where woos and coos, and loves and doves unite:
Where simply-married epithets are seen,
With gentle Hyphen keeping peace between.
Whipt cream; unfortify'd with wine or sense!
Froth'd by the slattern-muse, indifference;
And deck'd [as after-ages more shall see]
With poor hedge-flow'rs, y-clept simplicity!
Pert, and yet dull; tawdry and mean withall;
Fools for the future will it nature call.
He learnt his whims, and high-flown notions too,
Such as fine men adopt, and fine men rue:
[Meer singularity the point in view.]
Julian with him was statesman, bard, and wit;
Julian, who ten times miss'd, and one time hit;
Who reason'd blindly, and more blindly writ.
Julian, who lov'd each sober mind to shock;—
Who laugh'd at God, and offer'd to a cock.
Such as fine men adopt, and fine men rue:
[Meer singularity the point in view.]
188
Julian, who ten times miss'd, and one time hit;
Who reason'd blindly, and more blindly writ.
Julian, who lov'd each sober mind to shock;—
Who laugh'd at God, and offer'd to a cock.
He learn'd no small regard for Arius too:
And hinted What,—nor He, nor Arius knew.
But most [as did his pregnant parts become]
He lov'd th'old pageantry of Pagan Rome.
Pompous Idolatry with him was fashion;
Nay, he once dream'd of Transubstantiation.—
And hinted What,—nor He, nor Arius knew.
But most [as did his pregnant parts become]
He lov'd th'old pageantry of Pagan Rome.
Pompous Idolatry with him was fashion;
Nay, he once dream'd of Transubstantiation.—
Now, Muse, return, and tread thy course again;
I only tell the story of a swain.
I only tell the story of a swain.
Pirasmus [for that name the demon bore
Who nurs'd our spark in fashionable lore]
Lik'd well this way-ward vanity of mind,
But thought a country-stage a niche confin'd;
Too cold for lux'ry, nor to folly kind:
Bizantium's hot-bed better serv'd his use,
The soil less stubborn, and more rank the juice.
Who nurs'd our spark in fashionable lore]
Lik'd well this way-ward vanity of mind,
But thought a country-stage a niche confin'd;
Too cold for lux'ry, nor to folly kind:
189
The soil less stubborn, and more rank the juice.
My Lord, he cries, [with looks and tone compos'd,
Whilst he the mischief of his soul disclos'd]
Forgive me, if that title I afford
To one, whom nature meant to be a lord;
How ill mean neighbourhood your genius suits?
To live like Adam midst an herd of brutes!
Leave the meer country to meer country-swains,
And dwell where life in all life's glory reigns.
Whilst he the mischief of his soul disclos'd]
Forgive me, if that title I afford
To one, whom nature meant to be a lord;
How ill mean neighbourhood your genius suits?
To live like Adam midst an herd of brutes!
Leave the meer country to meer country-swains,
And dwell where life in all life's glory reigns.
At six hours' distance from Bizantium's walls,
[Where Bosphorus into the Euxine falls]
In a gay district, call'd th'Elysian vale ,
A furnish'd villa stands, propos'd for sale:
Thither, for summer-shade, the Great resort;
Each nymph a goddess, and each house a court:
Be master of the happier Lares there,
And taste life's grandeur in a rural air.
[Where Bosphorus into the Euxine falls]
In a gay district, call'd th'Elysian vale ,
A furnish'd villa stands, propos'd for sale:
Thither, for summer-shade, the Great resort;
Each nymph a goddess, and each house a court:
Be master of the happier Lares there,
And taste life's grandeur in a rural air.
190
He spoke. Eulogius readily agreed,
And sign'd with eager joy the purchase-deed.
Div'd in the Theban vales an home-spun swain;
And rose a tawdry fop in Asia's plain.
Dame nature gave him comeliness and health,
And Fortune [for a pass-port] gave him wealth.
The beaus extoll'd him, the coquets approv'd;
For a rich coxcomb is by instinct lov'd.
And sign'd with eager joy the purchase-deed.
Div'd in the Theban vales an home-spun swain;
And rose a tawdry fop in Asia's plain.
Dame nature gave him comeliness and health,
And Fortune [for a pass-port] gave him wealth.
The beaus extoll'd him, the coquets approv'd;
For a rich coxcomb is by instinct lov'd.
Swift Atalanta [as the story's told
]
Felt her feet bird-lim'd to the earth with gold:
The youth had wealth, with no unpleasing face;
That, and the golden apples, won the race:
Had he been swifter than the swiftest wind,
And a poor wit,—He still had sigh'd behind.—
Felt her feet bird-lim'd to the earth with gold:
The youth had wealth, with no unpleasing face;
That, and the golden apples, won the race:
Had he been swifter than the swiftest wind,
And a poor wit,—He still had sigh'd behind.—
Here Satan vanish'd:—He had fresh commands—
And knew his pupil was in able hands.
And knew his pupil was in able hands.
191
And now, the treasure found, and matron's store,
Sought other objects than the tatter'd Poor:
Part to humiliated Apicius went,
A part to gaming confessors was lent,
And part, O virtuous Thaïs, paid thy rent.
Poor folks have leisure-hours to fast and pray;
Our rich man's bus'ness lay another way:
No farther intercourse with Heav'n had he,
But left good works to men of low degree:
Warm as himself pronounc'd each ragged man,
And bade distress to prosper as it can:
Till, grown obdurate by meer dint of time,
He deem'd all poor men rogues, and want a crime .
Sought other objects than the tatter'd Poor:
Part to humiliated Apicius went,
A part to gaming confessors was lent,
And part, O virtuous Thaïs, paid thy rent.
Poor folks have leisure-hours to fast and pray;
Our rich man's bus'ness lay another way:
No farther intercourse with Heav'n had he,
But left good works to men of low degree:
Warm as himself pronounc'd each ragged man,
And bade distress to prosper as it can:
Till, grown obdurate by meer dint of time,
He deem'd all poor men rogues, and want a crime .
192
By chance he ancient amities forgot,
Or else expung'd them with one wilful blot:
Nor knew he God nor man, nor faith nor friends,
But for by-purposes and worldly ends.
No single circumstance his mind dismay'd,
But his low extract, and once-humble trade;
These thoughts he strove to bury in expence,
Rich meats, rich wines, and vain magnificence:
Weak as the Roman Chief, who strove to hide
His father's cot, [and once his father's pride,]
By casing a low shed of rural mold
With marble-walls, and roof adorn'd with gold .
Or else expung'd them with one wilful blot:
Nor knew he God nor man, nor faith nor friends,
But for by-purposes and worldly ends.
No single circumstance his mind dismay'd,
But his low extract, and once-humble trade;
These thoughts he strove to bury in expence,
Rich meats, rich wines, and vain magnificence:
Weak as the Roman Chief, who strove to hide
His father's cot, [and once his father's pride,]
By casing a low shed of rural mold
With marble-walls, and roof adorn'd with gold .
Who but Eulogius now is prais'd and known,
The very Ignis fatuus of the Town?
Our ready scholar in a single year
Could lie, forget, swear, flatter, and forswear .
Rough to the tim'rous, timid with the brave;
'Midst wits a witling, and with knaves a knave.
The very Ignis fatuus of the Town?
Our ready scholar in a single year
Could lie, forget, swear, flatter, and forswear .
193
'Midst wits a witling, and with knaves a knave.
Fame, not contented with her broad high-way,
Delights, for change, thro' private paths to stray;
And, wand'ring to the Hermit's distant cell,
Vouchsaf'd Eulogius' history to tell.
Delights, for change, thro' private paths to stray;
And, wand'ring to the Hermit's distant cell,
Vouchsaf'd Eulogius' history to tell.
At night a dream confirm'd the Hermit more;
He started, scream'd, and sweat from ev'ry pore.
He dream'd that on his throne th'Almighty sate
In th'awful valley of Jehoshaphat ,
Where, underneath a spreading cedar's shade,
He 'spy'd his friend on beds of roses laid;
Round him a croud of threat'ning furies stands,
With instruments of vengeance in their hands.
He started, scream'd, and sweat from ev'ry pore.
He dream'd that on his throne th'Almighty sate
In th'awful valley of Jehoshaphat ,
Where, underneath a spreading cedar's shade,
He 'spy'd his friend on beds of roses laid;
Round him a croud of threat'ning furies stands,
With instruments of vengeance in their hands.
194
The Judge supreme soon cast a stedfast eye,
[Stern, yet attemper'd with benignity,]
On the rash Hermit; who with impious pray'r
Had been the sponsor of another's care.
“Wretch, thou art lost in part, and in the whole!
“Is this the mortgage for thy brother's soul?”
[Stern, yet attemper'd with benignity,]
On the rash Hermit; who with impious pray'r
Had been the sponsor of another's care.
“Wretch, thou art lost in part, and in the whole!
“Is this the mortgage for thy brother's soul?”
An apoplex of dread Eusebius shook:
Despairing Judas glar'd in all his look.
Trembling he fell before th'Almighty-throne;
Importunate as Abraham t'attone
For others' crimes: O Pow'r Supreme, said he,
Grant me, once more, th'ungrateful wretch to see:
Suspend thy doom till then: On Christian ground
No graceless monster, like my friend, is found.
Despairing Judas glar'd in all his look.
Trembling he fell before th'Almighty-throne;
Importunate as Abraham t'attone
For others' crimes: O Pow'r Supreme, said he,
Grant me, once more, th'ungrateful wretch to see:
Suspend thy doom till then: On Christian ground
No graceless monster, like my friend, is found.
He spoke, and wak'd aghast: He tore his hair,
And rent his sack-cloath garments in despair;
Walk'd to Constantinople, and enquir'd
Of all he met; at length the house desir'd
By chance he found, but no admission gain'd;
A Thracian slave the porter's place maintain'd,
[Sworn foe to thread-bare suppliants,] and with pride
His master's presence, nay, his name, deny'd.
And rent his sack-cloath garments in despair;
Walk'd to Constantinople, and enquir'd
Of all he met; at length the house desir'd
195
A Thracian slave the porter's place maintain'd,
[Sworn foe to thread-bare suppliants,] and with pride
His master's presence, nay, his name, deny'd.
There walk'd Eusebius at the dawn of light,
There walk'd at noon, and there he walk'd at night.
In vain.—At length, by Providence's care,
He found the door un-clos'd, nor servants near.
He enter'd, and thro' sev'ral rooms of state
Pass'd gently; in the last Eulogius sate.
Old man, good-morrow, the gay courtier cry'd;
God give you grace, my son, the sire reply'd;
And then, in terms as moving and as strong,
As clear; as ever fell from angel's tongue,
Besought, reprov'd, exhorted, and condemn'd:—
Eulogius knew him, and, tho' known, contemn'd.
There walk'd at noon, and there he walk'd at night.
In vain.—At length, by Providence's care,
He found the door un-clos'd, nor servants near.
He enter'd, and thro' sev'ral rooms of state
Pass'd gently; in the last Eulogius sate.
Old man, good-morrow, the gay courtier cry'd;
God give you grace, my son, the sire reply'd;
And then, in terms as moving and as strong,
As clear; as ever fell from angel's tongue,
Besought, reprov'd, exhorted, and condemn'd:—
Eulogius knew him, and, tho' known, contemn'd.
The Hermit then assum'd a bolder tone;
His rage was kindled, and his patience gone.
Without respect to titles or to place,
I call thee [adds he] miscreant to thy face.
My pray'rs drew down Heav'n's bounty on thy head,
And in an evil hour my wishes sped.
Ingratitude's black curse thy steps attend,
Monster to God, and faithless to thy friend!
His rage was kindled, and his patience gone.
196
I call thee [adds he] miscreant to thy face.
My pray'rs drew down Heav'n's bounty on thy head,
And in an evil hour my wishes sped.
Ingratitude's black curse thy steps attend,
Monster to God, and faithless to thy friend!
With all the rage of an insulted man
The Courtier call'd his slaves, who swiftly ran;
“Androtion, Geta, seize this aged fool,
“See him well-scourg'd, and send him back to school
“Teach the Old Chronicle, in future times
“To bear no mem'ry but of poor rogues' crimes.”
The Courtier call'd his slaves, who swiftly ran;
“Androtion, Geta, seize this aged fool,
“See him well-scourg'd, and send him back to school
“Teach the Old Chronicle, in future times
“To bear no mem'ry but of poor rogues' crimes.”
The Hermit took the chastisement, and went
Back to Thebaïs full of discontent;
Saw his once-impious rashness more and more,
And, victim to convinc'd contrition, bore
With Christian thankfulness the marks he wore.
And then on bended knees with tears and sighs
He thus invok'd the Ruler of the skies:
“My late request, All-gracious Pow'r, forgive!—
“And—that yon miscreant may repent, and live,
“Give him that poverty which suits him best,
“And leave disgrace and grief to work the rest.”
Back to Thebaïs full of discontent;
Saw his once-impious rashness more and more,
And, victim to convinc'd contrition, bore
With Christian thankfulness the marks he wore.
197
He thus invok'd the Ruler of the skies:
“My late request, All-gracious Pow'r, forgive!—
“And—that yon miscreant may repent, and live,
“Give him that poverty which suits him best,
“And leave disgrace and grief to work the rest.”
So pray'd the Hermit, and with reason pray'd.—
Some plants the sun-shine ask, and some the shade.
At night the nure-trees spread, but check their bloom
At morn, and lose their verdure and perfume.
The virtues of most men will only blow,
Like coy auriculas, in Alpine snow :
Transplant them to the equinoctial line,
Their vigour sickens, and their tints decline.—
Heav'n to its pre-dilected children grants
The middle space 'twixt opulence and wants.
Some plants the sun-shine ask, and some the shade.
At night the nure-trees spread, but check their bloom
At morn, and lose their verdure and perfume.
The virtues of most men will only blow,
Like coy auriculas, in Alpine snow :
Transplant them to the equinoctial line,
Their vigour sickens, and their tints decline.—
Heav'n to its pre-dilected children grants
The middle space 'twixt opulence and wants.
198
Mean-while Eulogius, un-abash'd and gay,
Pursu'd his courtly track without dismay:
Remorse was hood-wink'd, conscience charm'd away.
Reason the felon of herself was made,
And Nature's substance hid by Nature's shade!
Pursu'd his courtly track without dismay:
Remorse was hood-wink'd, conscience charm'd away.
Reason the felon of herself was made,
And Nature's substance hid by Nature's shade!
Our fine Man, now completed, quickly found
Congenial friends in Asiatic ground.
Th'advent'rous pilot in a single year
Learn'd his state-cock-boat dext'rously to steer;
Versatile, and sharp-piercing like a screw,
Made good th'old passage, and still forc'd a new:
For, just as int'rest whiffled on his mind,
He Anatolians left, or Thracians join'd;
Caught ev'ry breeze, and sail'd with ev'ry tyde;
But still was mindful of the lee-ward side:
Still mark'd the pinnacle of fortune's height,
And bark'd—to be made turn-spit of the state.
Congenial friends in Asiatic ground.
Th'advent'rous pilot in a single year
Learn'd his state-cock-boat dext'rously to steer;
Versatile, and sharp-piercing like a screw,
Made good th'old passage, and still forc'd a new:
For, just as int'rest whiffled on his mind,
He Anatolians left, or Thracians join'd;
Caught ev'ry breeze, and sail'd with ev'ry tyde;
But still was mindful of the lee-ward side:
Still mark'd the pinnacle of fortune's height,
And bark'd—to be made turn-spit of the state.
199
By other arts he learns the knack to thrive;
The most obsequious parasite alive:
Chamelion of the court, and country too;
Pays Cesar's tax, but gives the mob their due;
And makes it, in his conscience, the same thing
To crown a Tribune, or behead a King:
All things to all men;—and (himself to please)
Assimulates each colour which he sees.
If patriots pay him, willow-wreaths he bears,
And coats of filamotte complexion wears;
If statesmen pay him better, a fresh hue
Brightens his garb; more brilliant as more new;
Court-turquoise, and indelible of blue.
Thus weather-cocks by ev'ry wind are blown,
And int'rest oils a motion, not their own.
How strangely crouds misplace things, and mis-call;
MADNESS in One is LIBERTY in All!
The most obsequious parasite alive:
Chamelion of the court, and country too;
Pays Cesar's tax, but gives the mob their due;
And makes it, in his conscience, the same thing
To crown a Tribune, or behead a King:
All things to all men;—and (himself to please)
Assimulates each colour which he sees.
If patriots pay him, willow-wreaths he bears,
And coats of filamotte complexion wears;
If statesmen pay him better, a fresh hue
Brightens his garb; more brilliant as more new;
Court-turquoise, and indelible of blue.
Thus weather-cocks by ev'ry wind are blown,
And int'rest oils a motion, not their own.
200
MADNESS in One is LIBERTY in All!
On less important days, he pass'd his time
In virtuoso-ship, and crambo-rhyme:
In gaming, jobbing, fidling, painting, drinking,
And ev'ry art of using time, but thinking.
He gives the dinners of each up-start man,
As costly, and luxurious, as he can;
Then weds an heiress of suburbian mold,
Ugly as apes, but well-endow'd with gold;
There fortune gave him his full dose of strife,
A scolding woman, and a jealous wife!
In virtuoso-ship, and crambo-rhyme:
In gaming, jobbing, fidling, painting, drinking,
And ev'ry art of using time, but thinking.
He gives the dinners of each up-start man,
As costly, and luxurious, as he can;
Then weds an heiress of suburbian mold,
Ugly as apes, but well-endow'd with gold;
There fortune gave him his full dose of strife,
A scolding woman, and a jealous wife!
T'encrease this load, some sycophant-report
Destroy'd his int'rest and good grace at court.
At this one stroke the man look'd dead in law:
His flatt'rers scamper, and his friends withdraw .
Some men [as Holy Writ foretelleth right]
Have one way's entrance, but have sev'n ways flight .
Destroy'd his int'rest and good grace at court.
At this one stroke the man look'd dead in law:
His flatt'rers scamper, and his friends withdraw .
201
Have one way's entrance, but have sev'n ways flight .
“I never lik'd the wretch,” says one: another
Opines in the same language with his brother:
A third, with mystic shrug and winking eye,
Suspects him for a dervise and a spy.
“Pray, Sir, the crime?”—The monarch frown'd.—No more,
The fellow's guilty, and his bus'ness o'er .
Opines in the same language with his brother:
A third, with mystic shrug and winking eye,
Suspects him for a dervise and a spy.
“Pray, Sir, the crime?”—The monarch frown'd.—No more,
The fellow's guilty, and his bus'ness o'er .
And now [to shorten my disast'rous tale]
Storms of affronts pour'd in as thick as hail.
Each scheme for safety mischievously sped,
And the drawn sword hung o'er him by a thread.
Child he had none. His wife with sorrow dy'd;
Few women can survive the loss of pride.
Storms of affronts pour'd in as thick as hail.
Each scheme for safety mischievously sped,
And the drawn sword hung o'er him by a thread.
202
Few women can survive the loss of pride.
Mean-while the Demon, who was absent far,
[Engag'd in no less work than civil war]
Perceiv'd th'approaching wreck; and, in a trice
Appearing, gave both comfort and advice.
[Engag'd in no less work than civil war]
Perceiv'd th'approaching wreck; and, in a trice
Appearing, gave both comfort and advice.
“Great genius's,” he cry'd, “must ne'er despair;
“The Wise and Brave usurp on Fortune's care!
“The un-exhausted funds of human wit
“Oft miss one object, and another hit:
“The man of courts, who trusts to one poor hole,
“Is a low foolish fool , and has no soul:
“Disgraces my respected patronage,
“And, gaining Heav'n, becomes the jest of th'age !
“Court-loyalty is a precarious thing:
“When the king's trump, time-servers serve the king;
“But, when he's out of luck, they shift their sail,
“And popularity's the fav'rite gale:
“Vain popularity! which fancy shrouds,
“Like Juno's shade, in party-colour'd clouds.
“Each man will go a mile to see you crown'd
“With civic wreaths, till earth and skies resound;
“And each man will go two to see you drown'd.
“The Wise and Brave usurp on Fortune's care!
“The un-exhausted funds of human wit
“Oft miss one object, and another hit:
“The man of courts, who trusts to one poor hole,
“Is a low foolish fool , and has no soul:
“Disgraces my respected patronage,
“And, gaining Heav'n, becomes the jest of th'age !
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“When the king's trump, time-servers serve the king;
“But, when he's out of luck, they shift their sail,
“And popularity's the fav'rite gale:
“Vain popularity! which fancy shrouds,
“Like Juno's shade, in party-colour'd clouds.
“Each man will go a mile to see you crown'd
“With civic wreaths, till earth and skies resound;
“And each man will go two to see you drown'd.
“Whoever hopes in dang'rous times to rise,
“Must learn to shoot swift Fortune as she flies:
“Capricious Phantom! never at a stay;
“Just seen, and lost; when nearest, far away!
“But, to be brief; [and mark my judgement well:]
“Your fortunes totter'd, when old Justin fell;
“His successor
, as you and all men know,
“Is kind, when friend; and un-appeas'd, when foe,
“Some sly court-vermin, wriggling in his ear,
“Has whisper'd, what predicts your ruin near:
“Then cast thy die of fortune all at once;
“Learn to be any thing but dupe or dunce.
“Fortune assists the brave. Plunge boldly in;
“T'attempt, and fail, is a poor sneaking sin.
“Hypatius [with pretensions not the worst]
“Affects the throne: Be thou to join the first:
“'Tis not a crime too worldly-wise to be;—
“Or [if it is] discharge the crime on me.”
“Must learn to shoot swift Fortune as she flies:
“Capricious Phantom! never at a stay;
“Just seen, and lost; when nearest, far away!
“But, to be brief; [and mark my judgement well:]
“Your fortunes totter'd, when old Justin fell;
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“Is kind, when friend; and un-appeas'd, when foe,
“Some sly court-vermin, wriggling in his ear,
“Has whisper'd, what predicts your ruin near:
“Then cast thy die of fortune all at once;
“Learn to be any thing but dupe or dunce.
“Fortune assists the brave. Plunge boldly in;
“T'attempt, and fail, is a poor sneaking sin.
“Hypatius [with pretensions not the worst]
“Affects the throne: Be thou to join the first:
“'Tis not a crime too worldly-wise to be;—
“Or [if it is] discharge the crime on me.”
Thus weak Eulogius, by false greatness aw'd,
Listen'd—unto th'artificer of fraud:
The doctrine came not from th'all-righteous Throne:
When Satan tells a LIE, 'tis all his own .
Listen'd—unto th'artificer of fraud:
The doctrine came not from th'all-righteous Throne:
When Satan tells a LIE, 'tis all his own .
He spoke, and vanish'd. Swift Eulogius fled,
And to the Emulous of empire sped.
And to the Emulous of empire sped.
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Here, were it not too long, I might declare
The motives and successes of the war,
The prowess of the knights, their martial deeds,
Their swords, their shields, their surcoats and their steeds;
Till Belisarius at a single blow
Suppress'd the faction and repell'd the foe.
By a quick death the traytors he reliev'd;
Condemn'd, if taken; famish'd, if repriev'd.
The motives and successes of the war,
The prowess of the knights, their martial deeds,
Their swords, their shields, their surcoats and their steeds;
Till Belisarius at a single blow
Suppress'd the faction and repell'd the foe.
By a quick death the traytors he reliev'd;
Condemn'd, if taken; famish'd, if repriev'd.
Now see Eulogius [who had all betray'd
Whate'er he knew] in loathsome dungeon laid:
A pris'ner, first of war, and then of state:
Rebel and traytor ask a double fate!
But good Justinian, whose exalted mind
[In spite of what Pirasmus urg'd] enclin'd
To mercy, soon the forfeit-life forgave,
And freed it from the shackles of a slave.
Then spoke with mild, but in majestic strain,
Repent, and haste thee to Larissa's plain,
Or wander thro' the world, another Cain.
Thy lands and goods shall be the poor man's lot,
Or feed the orphans, you've so long forgot.
Whate'er he knew] in loathsome dungeon laid:
A pris'ner, first of war, and then of state:
Rebel and traytor ask a double fate!
But good Justinian, whose exalted mind
[In spite of what Pirasmus urg'd] enclin'd
To mercy, soon the forfeit-life forgave,
And freed it from the shackles of a slave.
206
Repent, and haste thee to Larissa's plain,
Or wander thro' the world, another Cain.
Thy lands and goods shall be the poor man's lot,
Or feed the orphans, you've so long forgot.
Forsaken, helpless, re-cogniz'd by none,
Proscrib'd Eulogius left th'unprosp'rous town:
For succour at a thousand doors he knock'd;
Each heart was harden'd, and each door was lock'd.
A pilgrim's staff he bore, of humble thorn;
Pervious to winds his coat, and sadly torn:
Shoes he had none: a beggar gave a pair,
Who saw feet poorer than his own, and bare.
He drank the stream, on dew-berries he fed,
And wildings harsh supply'd the place of bread;
Thus home-ward urg'd his solitary way;
[Four years had he been absent to a day.]
Proscrib'd Eulogius left th'unprosp'rous town:
For succour at a thousand doors he knock'd;
Each heart was harden'd, and each door was lock'd.
A pilgrim's staff he bore, of humble thorn;
Pervious to winds his coat, and sadly torn:
Shoes he had none: a beggar gave a pair,
Who saw feet poorer than his own, and bare.
He drank the stream, on dew-berries he fed,
And wildings harsh supply'd the place of bread;
Thus home-ward urg'd his solitary way;
[Four years had he been absent to a day.]
Fame thro' Thebaïs his arrival spread,
Half his old friends reproach'd him, and half fled:
Of help and common countenance bereft,
No creature own'd him, but a dog he left.
Compunction touch'd his soul, and, wiser made
By bitter suff'rings, he resum'd his trade:
Thank'd Heav'n for want of pow'r and want of pelf,
That he had lost the world, and found himself.
Conscience and charity reviv'd their part,
And true humility enrich'd the heart,
While grace celestial with enliv'ning ray
Beam'd forth, to gild the ev'ning of his day.
His neighbours mark'd the change, and each man strove
By slow degrees t'applaud him, and to love.
So Peter, when his tim'rous guilt was o'er,
Emerg'd, and stood twice firmer than before .
Half his old friends reproach'd him, and half fled:
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No creature own'd him, but a dog he left.
Compunction touch'd his soul, and, wiser made
By bitter suff'rings, he resum'd his trade:
Thank'd Heav'n for want of pow'r and want of pelf,
That he had lost the world, and found himself.
Conscience and charity reviv'd their part,
And true humility enrich'd the heart,
While grace celestial with enliv'ning ray
Beam'd forth, to gild the ev'ning of his day.
His neighbours mark'd the change, and each man strove
By slow degrees t'applaud him, and to love.
So Peter, when his tim'rous guilt was o'er,
Emerg'd, and stood twice firmer than before .
Eusebius, who had long in silence mourn'd,
Rejoic'd to hear the Prodigal return'd;
And with the eagerness of feeble age
Made haste t'express his joy, and griefs assuage.
Rejoic'd to hear the Prodigal return'd;
208
Made haste t'express his joy, and griefs assuage.
“My Son,” he cry'd, “once more contemplate me:
“Behold th'unhappy wretch that ruin'd thee;
“My ill-judg'd pray'rs [in luckless moments sped]
“Brought down the curse of riches on thy head.
“No language can express one single part
“Of what I felt, and what still racks my heart.
“Vainly I thought, that, to encrease thy store,
“Was to encrease Heav'n's manna for the poor.
“Man's virtue cannot go beyond its length;
“God's gifts are still proportion'd to our strength.
“The Scripture-widow gives her well-sav'd mite
“With affluent joy, nor fears to suffer by't:
“Whilst Dives' heaps [the barter of his soul]
“Lie bury'd in some base inglorious hole,
“Or on the wings of pomp and lux'ry fly,
“Accurst by Heav'n, and dead to charity !
“The charitable Few are chiefly they
“Whom Fortune places in the middle way ;
“Just rich enough, with œconomic care,
“To save a pittance, and a pittance spare:
“Just poor enough to feel the poor man's moan,
“Or share those suff'rings which may prove their own!—
“Great riches, with insinuating art,
“Debase the man, and petrify the heart.
“Let the false friend, like Satan, be withstood,
“Who wishes us more wealth—to do more good!
“To this great trial SOME are equal found;
“MOST in th'unnavigable stream are drown'd .”
“Behold th'unhappy wretch that ruin'd thee;
“My ill-judg'd pray'rs [in luckless moments sped]
“Brought down the curse of riches on thy head.
“No language can express one single part
“Of what I felt, and what still racks my heart.
“Vainly I thought, that, to encrease thy store,
“Was to encrease Heav'n's manna for the poor.
“Man's virtue cannot go beyond its length;
“God's gifts are still proportion'd to our strength.
“The Scripture-widow gives her well-sav'd mite
“With affluent joy, nor fears to suffer by't:
“Whilst Dives' heaps [the barter of his soul]
“Lie bury'd in some base inglorious hole,
209
“Accurst by Heav'n, and dead to charity !
“The charitable Few are chiefly they
“Whom Fortune places in the middle way ;
“Just rich enough, with œconomic care,
“To save a pittance, and a pittance spare:
“Just poor enough to feel the poor man's moan,
“Or share those suff'rings which may prove their own!—
“Great riches, with insinuating art,
“Debase the man, and petrify the heart.
“Let the false friend, like Satan, be withstood,
“Who wishes us more wealth—to do more good!
210
“MOST in th'unnavigable stream are drown'd .”
He spoke: And, with a flood of tears opprest,
Left his Eulogius to divine the rest.
Left his Eulogius to divine the rest.
“Father,” he cry'd, (and with complacence smil'd)
“Heav'n's tryals have at length reclaim'd its child.
“Omniscience only can our wants fore-know,
“And All-Beneficence will best bestow.
“SOME FEW God's bounty on the Poor employ:
“THERE ARE—whom to promote, is to destroy!
“Rough, thorny, barren, is pale virtue's road;
“And poisons are true cures when giv'n by God.
“Spontaneous I resign, with full accord,
“The empty nothings wealth and pow'r afford;
“My Mind's my All, by Heav'n's free grace restor'd.
“O Pow'r Supreme! unsearchable thy views!
“Omniscient, or to give, or to refuse!
“Grant me, as I begun, to end my days
“In acts of humble charity and praise;
“In thy own paths my journey let me run,
“And, as in Heav'n, on Earth thy Will be done!”
“Heav'n's tryals have at length reclaim'd its child.
“Omniscience only can our wants fore-know,
“And All-Beneficence will best bestow.
“SOME FEW God's bounty on the Poor employ:
“THERE ARE—whom to promote, is to destroy!
“Rough, thorny, barren, is pale virtue's road;
“And poisons are true cures when giv'n by God.
“Spontaneous I resign, with full accord,
“The empty nothings wealth and pow'r afford;
“My Mind's my All, by Heav'n's free grace restor'd.
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“Omniscient, or to give, or to refuse!
“Grant me, as I begun, to end my days
“In acts of humble charity and praise;
“In thy own paths my journey let me run,
“And, as in Heav'n, on Earth thy Will be done!”
Thus he maintain'd Almighty Wisdom's cause.
The sun shone forth—The Hermit pleas'd withdraws—
And Nature wore an aspect of applause.
The sun shone forth—The Hermit pleas'd withdraws—
And Nature wore an aspect of applause.
Dorp, a village, or more properly an hamlet. Dryden.
It is a German word, and adopted by our best writers in the beginning and middle of the last century.
“—Et cunctis undamque auramque patentem.”
Virg. Æn. vii.
“Communemq; prius, ceu lumina solis, & auræ.”
Virg. Æn. vii.
But Ovid is still more explicite, Met. I.
“------ Campum“Communemq; prius, ceu lumina solis, & auræ.”
“No man shall take the nether or upper mill-stone to pledge; for he taketh a man's life to pledge.” Deut. Ch. xxiv, v 6.
Maslin-bread, i. e. miscellane, or miscellaneous bread, an antient English word, given to a plain sort of household bread. When people in a middling station used it, they generally mixed two gallons of oats and rye with six gallons of wheat. The poorer people mixed in equal quantities wheat, barley, oats, rye, buck-wheat, pulse, &c. But such is the luxury of the present age (even amongst the Poor) that not only the thing but the very name is forgotten; and a preference given to a whiter, but more unwholesome sort of bread, if alom enters into the composition; which, indeed, cannot be concealed.
One of the first cares of a prime-minister (who ought also to be considered as proveditor-general of a kingdom) is to see the people supplied with bread, of an wholesome nature, at as reasonable a price as possible.
Hence the Great Gustavus used to say, “That it required more talents to feed a large army in the field, upon easy terms, in times of war; than to conduct the fighting part.”
“The time in which we now live is borrowed from the space of our existence: What is past is dead and vanished; what remaineth is daily made less and less; insomuch that the whole time of our life is nothing but a passage to death.” St. August. de Civitat. Dei, X.
See Sandys's Travels into the Holy Land, Folio, P. 138.
Presepio is an Italian word, taken from the Latin, and signifies a stable or manger. It is now become a term of art, and denotes any picture, drawing, or print, where Christ is represented as born in a stable or lying in the manger.
Spink, the old poetical name for finches of every sort. See Country Farm, by Surflet and Markham, folio, printed in 1616.
Critics in the reign of Charles II. called themselves judgements. Hence Dryden says,
—“A brother-judgement spare,
“He is, like you, a very wolf, or bear.”
“He is, like you, a very wolf, or bear.”
“Why dost thou doat on the image of a King stamped on coin; and despisest the image of God that shines in human nature?” St. August.
Minutius Felix addresses himself very pathetically to great and opulent men devoid of charity and alms-giving:
“Aman,” says he, “asks bread of you.—Whilst your horses champ upon bridles whose bits are gilt with gold, the people die with hunger: —whereas one of your diamonds might save the lives of an hundred families.”
“Those who are accustomed to swear often may sometimes by chance happen to forswear; as he that indulges his tongue in talking frequently speaks that which he blushes for in silence.” St. Chrysost.
Again, St. Jerom adds, “Let thy tongue be a stranger to lying and swearing; on the contrary, let the love of truth be so strongly in thee, that thou countest whatever thou sayest to be sealed with an oath.”
This flower was first discovered under the snow, at the feet of some ice-mountains amongst the Alps.
Filamotte (Dryden) is that “clouded mixture of crimson, yellow, and umber-colours, which are seen in the beginning of winter on a falling leaf.” Filamotte, quasi feüeille morte. Thus Isabella-colour denotes a certain grave colour worn by the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, Arch-duchess of Austria, &c, 1623. For grideline, see the Vision of Death, page 99.
“A friend cannot be known in prosperity, and an enemy cannot be hidden in adversity.” Ecclus. Ch. xii.
“—Nunquam, si quid mihi credis, amavi
“Huncce hominem. Sed quo cecidit sub crimine? Quisquam
“Delator? Quibus indiciis, quo teste probavit?
“Nil horum. Verbosa, et grandis epistola venit
“A Capreis. Bene habet, nil plus interrogo.”—
Juven. Sat. X, v 68.
“Huncce hominem. Sed quo cecidit sub crimine? Quisquam
“Delator? Quibus indiciis, quo teste probavit?
“Nil horum. Verbosa, et grandis epistola venit
“A Capreis. Bene habet, nil plus interrogo.”—
Juven. Sat. X, v 68.
To such sort of worldly connexions may be applied the golden saying of St. Chrysostom, “MEUM and TUUM are almost incompatible words.”
Orat. in Philagon.The Son of Sirach, in opposition to these false and dangerous notions, justly remarks: “Observe the opportunity, and beware of evil: Be not ashamed when it concerneth thy SOUL.” Ecclus. Ch. lv, v 20.
Isaiah's advice is very noble: “Fear not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings: For the moth shall eat them up as a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool; but my salvation shall be for ever.” Ch. li, v 7, 8.
“I, even I, am HE that comforteth you. Why shouldest thou be afraid of a man that shall die, and forgettest the LORD thy Maker, who stretched forth the heavens?” Ibid. v 12, 13.
See Luke Ch. xxii, v 55–62. “Peter stood more firmly, after he had lamented his fall, than before he fell.” St. Ambrose.
“God is not honoured with our expending that money which is bedewed with the tears of the oppressed.” St. Chrysost.
The truly charitable man, (who happens to be neither rich nor poor) is well painted by an antient Classic. I quote the verses, because I never saw them quoted:
—“Cujus
“Non frontem vertére minæ; sed candida semper
“Gaudia, & in vultu curarum ignara voluptas.
“Non tibi sepositas infelix strangulat arca
“Divitias; avidéve animum dispendia torquent
“Fœnoris expositi census; sed docta fruendi
“Temperies,” &c.
“Non frontem vertére minæ; sed candida semper
“Gaudia, & in vultu curarum ignara voluptas.
“Non tibi sepositas infelix strangulat arca
“Divitias; avidéve animum dispendia torquent
“Fœnoris expositi census; sed docta fruendi
“Temperies,” &c.
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