University of Virginia Library

In some dark season, when the misty show'r
Obscures the sun, and saddens all the sky;
When linnets drop the wing, nor grove nor stream
Invites thee forth, to sport thy drooping muse;
Seize the dull hour, nor with regret assign
To worldly prudence. She nor nice nor coy
Accepts the tribute of a joyless day;
She smiles well-pleas'd, when wit and mirth recede,
And not a grace, and not a muse will hear.
Then, from majestic Maro's aweful strain,
Or tow'ring Homer, let thine eye descend
To trace, with patient industry, the page
Of income and expence. And oh! beware,
Thy breast, self-flatt'ring, place no courtly smile,
No golden promise of your faithless muse,
Nor latent mine which fortune's hand may shew,
Amid thy solid store. The siren's song
Wrecks not the list'ning sailor, half so sure.
See by what avenues, what devious paths,
The foot of want, detested, steals along,
And bars each fatal pass. Some few short hours
Of punctual care, the refuse of thy year
On frugal schemes employ'd, shall give the muse
To sing intrepid many a chearful day.

But if too soon before the tepid gales
Thy resolution melt; and ardent vows
In wary hours preferr'd or dye forgot,
Or seem'd the forc'd effect of hazy skies;
Then, ere surprize, by whose impetuous rage
The massy fort, with which thy gentler breast
I not compare, is won, the song proceeds.

Know too by nature's undiminish'd law,
Throughout her realms obey'd, the various parts
Of deep creation, atoms, systems, all!
Attract and are attracted; nor prevails the law
Alone in matter; soul alike with soul
Aspires to join; nor yet in souls alone,
In each idea it imbibes, is found
The kind propensity. And when they meet,
And grow familiar, various tho' their tribe,
Their tempers various, vow perpetual faith:
That, shou'd the world's disjointed frame once more
To chaos yield the sway, amid the wreck
Their union shou'd survive; with Roman warmth,
By sacred hospitable laws endear'd,
Should each idea recollect its friend.

Here then we fix; on this perennial base
Erect thy safety, and defy the storm.
Let soft profusion's fair idea join
Her hand with poverty; nor here desist,
'Till, o'er the groupe that forms their various train
Thou sing loud hymenéals. Let the pride
Of outward shew in lasting leagues combine
With shame thread-bare; the gay vermilion face
Of rash intemp'rance, be discreetly pair'd
With sallow hunger; the licentious joy,
With mean dependence; ev'n the dear delight
Of sculpture, paint, intaglios, books, and coins,
Thy breast, sagacious prudence! shall connect
With filth and beggary; nor disdain to link
With black insolvency. Thy soul alarm'd
Shall shun the siren's voice; nor boldly dare
To bid the soft enchantress share thy breast,
With such a train of horrid fiends conjoin'd.

Nor think, ye sordid race! ye groveling minds!
I frame the song for you! for you, the muse
Cou'd other rules impart. The friendly strain
For gentler bosoms plan'd, to yours wou'd prove
The juice of lurid aconite, exceed
Whatever Colchos bore; and in your breast
Compassion, love, and friendship all destroy!

It greatly shall avail, if e'er thy stores
Increase apace, by periodic days
Of annual payment, or thy patron's boon,
The lean reward of gross unbounded praise!
It much avails, to seize the present hour,
And, undeliberating, call around
Thy hungry creditors; their horrid rage
When once appeas'd, the small remaining store
Shall rise in weight tenfold, in lustre rise,
As gold improv'd by many a fierce assay.
'Tis thus the frugal husbandman directs
His narrow stream, if o'er its wonted banks
By sudden rains impell'd, it proudly swell;
His timely hand thro' better tracks conveys
The quick-decreasing tide; ere borne along
Or thro' the wild morass, or cultur'd field,
Or bladed grass mature, or barren sands,
It flow destructive, or it flow in vain!
But happiest he who sanctifies expence
By present pay! who subjects not his fame
To tradesmen's varlets, nor bequeaths his name,
His honour'd name, to deck the vulgar page
Of base mechanic, sordid, unsincere!
There haply, while thy muse sublimely soars
Beyond this earthly sphere, in heav'n's abodes,
And dreams of nectar and ambrosial sweets,
Thy growing debt steals unregarded o'er
The punctual record; 'till nor Phoebus self—
Nor sage Minerva's art can aught avail
To soothe the ruthless dun's detested rage.
Frantic and fell, with many a curse profane
He loads the gentle muse; then hurls thee down
To want, remorse, captivity and shame.

Each public place, the glitt'ring haunts of men,
With horror fly. Why loiter near thy bane?—
Why fondly linger on a hostile shore
Disarm'd, defenceless? why require to tread
The precipice? or why alas to breathe
A moment's space, where ev'ry breeze is death?
Death to thy future peace! Away, collect
Thy dissipated mind; contract thy train
Of wild ideas o'er the flow'ry fields
Of shew diffus'd, and speed to safer climes.
Œconomy presents her glass, accept
The faithful mirror; powerful to disclose
A thousand forms, unseen by careless eyes,
That plot thy fate. Temptation in a robe
Of Tyrian dye, with every sweet perfum'd,
Besets thy sense; extortion follows close
Her wanton step, and ruin brings the rear.
These and the rest shall her mysterious glass
Embody to thy view; like Venus kind,
When to her lab'ring son, the vengeful pow'rs
That urg'd the fall of Ilium, she display'd,
He, not imprudent, at the sight declin'd
Th'inequal conflict, and decreed to raise
The Trojan welfare on some happier shore.
For here to drain thy swelling purse await
A thousand arts, a thousand frauds attend,
“The cloud-wrought canes, the gorgeous snuff-boxes,
The twinkling jewels, and the gold etwee,
With all its bright inhabitants, shall waste
Its melting stores, and in the dreary void
Leave not a doit behind.” Ere yet exhaust
Its flimsy folds offend thy pensive eye,
Away! embosom'd deep in distant shades,
Nor seen nor seeing, thou may'st vent thy scorn
Of lace, embroidery, purple, gems, and gold!
There of the farded fop, and essenc'd beau,
Ferocious with a stoic's frown disclose
Thy manly scorn, averse to tinsel pomp;
And fluent thine harangue. But can thy soul
Deny thy limbs the radiant grace of dress,
Where dress is merit! where thy graver friend
Shall wish thee burnish'd! where the sprightly fair
Demand embellishment! ev'n Delia's eye,
As in a garden, roves, of hues alone
Inquirent, curious? Fly the curst domain;
These are the realms of luxury and shew;
No classic soil, away! the bloomy spring
Attracts thee hence; the waning autumn warns;
Fly to thy native shades, and dread ev'n there,
Lest busy fancy tempt thy narrow state
Beyond its bounds. Observe Florelio's mien.
Why treads my friend with melancholy step
That beauteous lawn? why pensive strays his eye
O'er statues, grottoes, urns by critic art
Proportion'd fair? or from his lofty dome
Bright glitt'ring through the grove, returns his eye
Unpleas'd, disconsolate? And is it love,
Disastrous love, that robs the finish'd scenes
Of all their beauty? cen'tring all in her
His soul adores? or from a blacker cause
Springs this remorseful gloom? is conscious guilt
The latent source of more than love's despair?
It cannot be within that polish'd breast
Where science dwells, that guilt should harbour there
No! 'tis the sad survey of present want,
And past profusion! Lost to him the sweets
Of yon pavilion, fraught with ev'ry charm
For other eyes; or, if remaining, proofs
Of criminal expence! Sweet interchange
Of river, valley, mountain, woods and plains!
How gladsome once he rang'd your native turf,
Your simple scenes, how raptur'd! ere expence
Had lavish'd thousand ornaments, and taught
Convenience to perplex him, art to pall,
Pomp to deject, and beauty to displease.

Oh! for a soul to all the glare of wealth,
To fortune's wide exhaustless treasury,
Nobly superior! but let caution guide
The coy disposal of the wealth we scorn,
And prudence be our Almoner! Alas!
The pilgrim wand'ring o'er some distant clime,
Sworn foe of avarice! not disdains to learn
Its coin's imputed worth; the destin'd means
To smooth his passage to the favour'd shrine.
Ah let not us, who tread this stranger-world,
Let none who sojourn on the realms of life,
Forget the land is merc'nary; nor waste
His fare, ere landed on no venal shore.

Let never bard consult Palladio's rules;
Let never bard, O Burlington! survey
Thy learned art, in Chiswick's dome display'd;
Dang'rous incentive! nor with ling'ring eye
Survey the window Venice calls her own.
Better for him, with no ingrateful muse,
To sing a requiem to that gentle soul
Who plan'd the sky-light; which to lavish bards
Conveys alone the pure etherial ray.
For garrets him, and squalid walls await,
Unless, presageful, from this friendly strain,
He glean advice, and shun the scribler's doom.