 | Poems on several occasions |  |
TO MR. JUSON, ON HIS MARRIAGE.
Tied fast as life the knot of love we see:
My second now at length is worthy me,
Worthy congratulating verse to share,
Join'd with the young, the virtuous, and the fair.
Begin the song! if virtue merits praise,
If youth and beauty may demand the lays,
Or friendship ask; let social joy be shown:
I greet your fortune, while I like my own.
My second now at length is worthy me,
Worthy congratulating verse to share,
Join'd with the young, the virtuous, and the fair.
Begin the song! if virtue merits praise,
If youth and beauty may demand the lays,
Or friendship ask; let social joy be shown:
I greet your fortune, while I like my own.
398
Now scenes of bliss your glowing breast employ,
Scenes of long love and ever-during joy.
Now, smiling sweet, the season fair appears
To fix the tenor of your future years.
By wisdom's power bid fleeting pleasure stay
Its course, and make to-morrow like to-day.
But think not here a Paradise to know;
Nor hope perfection; 'tis not found below.
Yet easy days and prosperous may you see,
Place but your rest on love and piety.
No foolish pride your steady mind betray
To taint your peace with arbitrary sway,
Merely for rule your empire to extend,
And, when you gain a vassal, lose a friend:
While sympathetic love her soul inspires
To act, before commanded, your desires;
Well-skill'd in all the offices of life,
A generous mistress and a faithful wife.
If offspring dear the genial bed supply,
O let them rightly live, or quickly die!
Nor children's number nor their want bemoan;
With babes delighted, and content with none.
Scenes of long love and ever-during joy.
Now, smiling sweet, the season fair appears
To fix the tenor of your future years.
By wisdom's power bid fleeting pleasure stay
Its course, and make to-morrow like to-day.
But think not here a Paradise to know;
Nor hope perfection; 'tis not found below.
Yet easy days and prosperous may you see,
Place but your rest on love and piety.
No foolish pride your steady mind betray
To taint your peace with arbitrary sway,
Merely for rule your empire to extend,
And, when you gain a vassal, lose a friend:
While sympathetic love her soul inspires
To act, before commanded, your desires;
Well-skill'd in all the offices of life,
A generous mistress and a faithful wife.
If offspring dear the genial bed supply,
O let them rightly live, or quickly die!
Nor children's number nor their want bemoan;
With babes delighted, and content with none.
Above contempt, by dint of virtue rise,
Which only can avoid it or despise.
To friends a cordial welcome still afford,
While hospitable plenty loads the board.
Be pleased to spend, but seldom glad to spare:
If one must pinch for 't, let it be your heir.
By avarice accursed we perish whole:
It pines the body, and it damns the soul.
It eats out virtue's substance, nay, its name;
It robs us of our friend, as of our fame.
These truths disguised the fabling ancients tell:—
The same was god of wealth and god of hell.
Which only can avoid it or despise.
To friends a cordial welcome still afford,
While hospitable plenty loads the board.
Be pleased to spend, but seldom glad to spare:
If one must pinch for 't, let it be your heir.
By avarice accursed we perish whole:
It pines the body, and it damns the soul.
399
It robs us of our friend, as of our fame.
These truths disguised the fabling ancients tell:—
The same was god of wealth and god of hell.
Bear well in mind, that happiness relies
On our own hearts, and not another's eyes.
It glares not, in brocades and velvets dress'd;
It lurks not poorly in the niggard's chest.
In birthday-balls it scorns a place to hold,
With stars of diamond, and with robes of gold.
'Tis not in pomp, in equipage, in show:
'Tis that which we who find it only know.
'Tis nuptial bliss, which holy vows insure;
Though great, yet calm; and, though transporting, pure;
Which flying years impair not, but improve:
'Tis more than friendship; nay, 'tis more than love!
Such dear delights from friendships never flow'd;
For those are join'd by man, but we by God.
On our own hearts, and not another's eyes.
It glares not, in brocades and velvets dress'd;
It lurks not poorly in the niggard's chest.
In birthday-balls it scorns a place to hold,
With stars of diamond, and with robes of gold.
'Tis not in pomp, in equipage, in show:
'Tis that which we who find it only know.
'Tis nuptial bliss, which holy vows insure;
Though great, yet calm; and, though transporting, pure;
Which flying years impair not, but improve:
'Tis more than friendship; nay, 'tis more than love!
Such dear delights from friendships never flow'd;
For those are join'd by man, but we by God.
Perhaps, my friend, some wonder you'll express,
I leave out gold in plans of happiness.
My lines on pelf shall no encomium shower,
Nor satire tell you that the grapes are sour.
No single verse in praise of riches flows:
You'll find enough that honour wealth, in prose.
To this mankind unfeign'd submission show;
It always was and always will be so.
One thousand pounds more reverence will inspire
Than softest breathings of the best-strung lyre,
Than all poetic fame from Homer down to Prior.
I leave out gold in plans of happiness.
My lines on pelf shall no encomium shower,
Nor satire tell you that the grapes are sour.
No single verse in praise of riches flows:
You'll find enough that honour wealth, in prose.
To this mankind unfeign'd submission show;
It always was and always will be so.
One thousand pounds more reverence will inspire
Than softest breathings of the best-strung lyre,
Than all poetic fame from Homer down to Prior.
400
Long may your lives in smoothest current run;
Your aims, your interest, and your souls but one.
No carking thoughts domestic quiet sour
Of fools in private or of knaves in power.
Let tyrant Whigs despotic schemes pursue;
No matter: they be great, and happy you.
No thankless friends your stretch of temper try;
Nor doctors, Dutch or English, make you sigh.
No teasing school your vital spirits drain;
Nor Chancery-suit perplex your busy brain;
Nor distant Beckford vex, nor neighbouring Castlemain.
Long live and love, in mutual faith secure:
Be happy you the rich, as we the poor!
Your aims, your interest, and your souls but one.
No carking thoughts domestic quiet sour
Of fools in private or of knaves in power.
Let tyrant Whigs despotic schemes pursue;
No matter: they be great, and happy you.
No thankless friends your stretch of temper try;
Nor doctors, Dutch or English, make you sigh.
No teasing school your vital spirits drain;
Nor Chancery-suit perplex your busy brain;
Nor distant Beckford vex, nor neighbouring Castlemain.
Long live and love, in mutual faith secure:
Be happy you the rich, as we the poor!
| Poems on several occasions | |