University of Virginia Library

A Memorial to Virtue, Unfinished.

Thy boasted Glories, Virtue, I have seen,
And long amid' thy zealous Votaries been.
Whatever Sages, in thy Praise, have said,
Eager, I learnt; and, what they taught, obey'd.
For faithful Service, and intense Regard,
I'm bold, at last, to claim a just Reward.
Naked, and poor, I've waited, in thy Train;
But shall I always indigent remain?
Must I be forc'd, as Millions have before,
To give the fruitless, fond, Dependance o'er?
Well do'st thou know how honest I have prov'd!
How much thy Nature is, by mine belov'd!
I wou'd not leave Thee, wou'd'st Thou Victuals give;
But flowry Speeches cannot make me live.
I must have more than Words, to keep me true:
Shadows, without some Substance, will not do.
The World derides me, while I gratis wait;
I'm pointed at, as Virtue's Slave of State!
My old Companions fly me, as a Pest;
And my dull Morals prove the common Jest.
“Wilt thou—they cry—be singularly good,
“And stand alone, distinguish'd from the Crowd?
“Think how to thrive, by Methods more secure.
“Virtue is fair, but miserably poor!
“Besides, her Rules are hardly worth thy Care:
“For sprightly Youth, and Humour, too severe!
“And, tho' Contentment, in your self, you find,
“Not one of Millions will be of your Mind.
“The World will call your studied Goodness, Pride,
“And sober Life, as sly Design, deride:
“And 'twere but vain, to strive against the Tide.
I answer: Wealth and Honours are by Fate
Contriv'd, to give insipid Coxcombs Weight:
They only serve, to fill the Want of Sense,
And wait, like Slaves, on fawning Impudence:
That Virtue, ev'n in Rags, commands Regard,
And is, it self, its own immense Reward.
This they call Cant, a mere delusive Dream:
“Single, but out—they say—the greatest Name,
“And mark, how poorly Virtue crown'd his Deeds!
“And thence infer, how ill Desert succeeds.
“Was Cæsar virtuous? What Reward had He?
“How dy'd the Hero?—For, at Death, we see
“Whether the Man meets happy Fate, or no:
“What boots a Glory, that, at Death, must go?
“Or say, deluded Mortal, was he blest,
“Whose Virtue Cæsar's Person most opprest?
“Dy'd Brutus happier than the envied Man?
“Resolve us this, you Zealot, if you can.
“Have not the Good and Bad a common Fate?
“And be they not most happy, who be Great?
“Take you the Virtue, leave us the Estate.
Tell me, fair Goddess, how to make Reply,
And timely save, or quickly I must fly.
Better to shun the Learning of thy School,
Than starve in Life, and die a knowing Fool.