Familiar letters and poems on several occasions By Mary Masters |
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A Second Epistle to the Same.
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 | Familiar letters and poems on several occasions |  |
151
A Second Epistle to the Same.
Rouse, slumbring Soul, awake thou drowsy Man,
And Life's most secret deep Recesses scan;
Be pow'rful Reason thy unerring Guide,
Reason will safe conduct thee thro' the Tide
Of wild Ambition, and insulting Pride:
Think what thou art, a Piece of mould'ring Clay,
Wrought into Form, the Play-thing of a Day,
Then swell with Pomp, with Riches or with Sway;
Consider Beauty, and reflect on Pow'r
They're but the pleasing Shadows of an Hour,
A passing Pageant, and a pleasing Flow'r;
He that would Bliss in Pomp and Titles find,
But courts a Shadow and embraces Wind.
And Life's most secret deep Recesses scan;
Be pow'rful Reason thy unerring Guide,
Reason will safe conduct thee thro' the Tide
Of wild Ambition, and insulting Pride:
Think what thou art, a Piece of mould'ring Clay,
Wrought into Form, the Play-thing of a Day,
Then swell with Pomp, with Riches or with Sway;
152
They're but the pleasing Shadows of an Hour,
A passing Pageant, and a pleasing Flow'r;
He that would Bliss in Pomp and Titles find,
But courts a Shadow and embraces Wind.
Scarce yet Sixteen Pulcheria was admir'd,
How many Vot'ries at her Feet expir'd!
Nature to her Ten-thousand Graces gave,
Eyes to ensnare, and Beauty to enslave;
But what is Beauty, what the sparkling Eye,
Where Pride and Vanity the rest supply?
False Jewels thus a glaring Lustre give,
And at a Distance ev'ry Eye deceive;
But when we view the polish'd Pebbles near,
The fair Delusions, as they should, appear.
How many Vot'ries at her Feet expir'd!
Nature to her Ten-thousand Graces gave,
Eyes to ensnare, and Beauty to enslave;
But what is Beauty, what the sparkling Eye,
Where Pride and Vanity the rest supply?
False Jewels thus a glaring Lustre give,
And at a Distance ev'ry Eye deceive;
But when we view the polish'd Pebbles near,
The fair Delusions, as they should, appear.
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The wanton Charmer conscious of her Sway,
Proudly triumphant, and too vainly gay,
Acts the Coquet, while all her Swains despair,
The willing Coxcombs of a trifling Fair;
A thousand pretty awkward Tricks she plays,
A thousand tender airy Things she says:
Now smiles, now frowns, now pleasant, now demure
She looks—but is not the same thing an Hour;
Too soon you will repent, affected Maid!
Those Charms will languish, and those Beauties fade,
Those sparkling Eyes, which at a Glance cou'd slay,
Shall lose their Lustre, languish and decay;
Then shall you rage Pulcheria, and complain,
Your Rage but idle, and Complainings vain.
Proudly triumphant, and too vainly gay,
Acts the Coquet, while all her Swains despair,
The willing Coxcombs of a trifling Fair;
A thousand pretty awkward Tricks she plays,
A thousand tender airy Things she says:
Now smiles, now frowns, now pleasant, now demure
She looks—but is not the same thing an Hour;
Too soon you will repent, affected Maid!
Those Charms will languish, and those Beauties fade,
Those sparkling Eyes, which at a Glance cou'd slay,
Shall lose their Lustre, languish and decay;
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Your Rage but idle, and Complainings vain.
The Turns of Empire great Superbus knew,
And thus the low ambitious Statesman grew;
Grasping at Pow'r, each diff'rent Part he play'd,
His Foes protected, or his Friends betray'd:
Well taught in all the wily Games of State,
He would, no matter by what means, be Great.
And thus the low ambitious Statesman grew;
Grasping at Pow'r, each diff'rent Part he play'd,
His Foes protected, or his Friends betray'd:
Well taught in all the wily Games of State,
He would, no matter by what means, be Great.
But, oh! how wav'ring are the Smiles of Kings,
False as the Syren when she sweetly Sings;
Be cautious Statesmen, shun the poison'd Bait,
Nor basely wait their Favour to be Great;
For young in Pow'r like tender Trees you shoot,
But grown, one Tempest tears you from the Root.
False as the Syren when she sweetly Sings;
Be cautious Statesmen, shun the poison'd Bait,
Nor basely wait their Favour to be Great;
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But grown, one Tempest tears you from the Root.
Behold him there by flatt'ring Crowds ador'd!
An upstart Courtier, and a pension'd Lord!
But once depriv'd of Glory and of Pow'r,
Who then will flatter—and who then adore?
So the proud Jay in Peacock's Feathers dress'd,
By all the Birds was flatter'd and caress'd:
In borrow'd Grandeur stately walk'd along,
The Praise and Darling of the feather'd Throng;
But when of ev'ry gaudy Plume bereft,
Nothing of all her former State was left;
The base inconstant Crowd no more revere,
A public Object of their daily Sneer.
An upstart Courtier, and a pension'd Lord!
But once depriv'd of Glory and of Pow'r,
Who then will flatter—and who then adore?
So the proud Jay in Peacock's Feathers dress'd,
By all the Birds was flatter'd and caress'd:
In borrow'd Grandeur stately walk'd along,
The Praise and Darling of the feather'd Throng;
But when of ev'ry gaudy Plume bereft,
Nothing of all her former State was left;
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A public Object of their daily Sneer.
In Iron Chests, and secret Corners lay,
Heaps of uncounted Treasure hid from Day;
Thither Avarus ev'ry Moment flies,
And feeds his Fancy, and delights his Eyes;
In Gold he places ev'ry Human Pleasure,
And counts Felicity by Land and Treasure.
And, tho' he wallows to the Ears in Pence,
He dares not take one single Shilling thence:
“Why midst such Plenty, woud'st thou Niggard spare?
“Sir, to enrich my only Son and Heir.
Heaps of uncounted Treasure hid from Day;
Thither Avarus ev'ry Moment flies,
And feeds his Fancy, and delights his Eyes;
In Gold he places ev'ry Human Pleasure,
And counts Felicity by Land and Treasure.
And, tho' he wallows to the Ears in Pence,
He dares not take one single Shilling thence:
“Why midst such Plenty, woud'st thou Niggard spare?
“Sir, to enrich my only Son and Heir.
Oh! mighty Error, Folly and Mistake,
Avarus spares that Prodigus may rake!
If Reason, foolish Man, thy Bosom sway'd,
Thou couldst not err, for she wou'd be obey'd;
By her deep Wisdom influenc'd thou wou'dst see,
Superfluous Riches are but Vanity.
Avarus spares that Prodigus may rake!
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Thou couldst not err, for she wou'd be obey'd;
By her deep Wisdom influenc'd thou wou'dst see,
Superfluous Riches are but Vanity.
See lavish Prodigus in Chariot lolls,
Frequents Assemblies, Operas, and Balls;
Behind six powder'd lazy Valets grin,
True Emblems of th'embroider'd Thing within.
Nymphs he'll support, and Horses too maintain,
And thoughtless risk his Thousands at a Main;
Thus from Extremes we fall into a worse,
Too base Profuseness, or a greater Curse.
Frequents Assemblies, Operas, and Balls;
Behind six powder'd lazy Valets grin,
True Emblems of th'embroider'd Thing within.
Nymphs he'll support, and Horses too maintain,
And thoughtless risk his Thousands at a Main;
Thus from Extremes we fall into a worse,
Too base Profuseness, or a greater Curse.
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Honour, like Virtue, should with Pains be sought,
Empty are Titles that are proudly bought;
Rewards for honest Deeds, they grace a Name,
Receiv'd for Money—Fool and Lord's the same:
Virtue shall live whole Ages after Death,
Titles are Air, and Lordships but a Breath.
Empty are Titles that are proudly bought;
Rewards for honest Deeds, they grace a Name,
Receiv'd for Money—Fool and Lord's the same:
Virtue shall live whole Ages after Death,
Titles are Air, and Lordships but a Breath.
S.
| Familiar letters and poems on several occasions | |