 | The Genuine Works in Verse and Prose, Of the Right Honourable George Granville, Lord Lansdowne |  |
Occasion'd by the foregoing Verses. Written in the Year 1690.
Cease, tempting Siren, cease thy flatt'ring Strain,
Sweet is thy charming Song, but sung in vain:
When the Winds blow, and loud the Tempests roar,
What Fool would trust the Waves, and quit the Shore?
Early, and vain, into the World I came,
Big with false Hopes, and eager after Fame;
Till looking round me, 'ere the Race began,
Madmen, and giddy Fools, were all that ran;
Reclaim'd betimes, I from the Lists retire,
And thank the Gods whom my Retreat inspire.
In happier Times our Ancestors were bred,
When Virtue was the only Path to tread:
Give me, ye Gods! but the same Road to Fame,
Whate'er my Fathers dar'd, I dare the same.
Chang'd is the Scene, some baneful Planet rules
An impious World, contriv'd for Knaves and Fools.
Look now around, and with impartial Eyes
Consider, and examine all who rise;
Weigh well their Actions, and their treach'rous Ends,
How Greatness grows, and by what Steps ascends;
What Murders, Treasons, Perjuries, Deceit;
How many crush'd, to make one Monster great.
Would you command? Have Fortune in your Pow'r?
Hug when you stab, and smile when you devour?
Be bloody, false, flatter, forswear, and lye,
Turn Pander, Pathick, Parasite, or Spy;
Such thriving Arts may your wish'd Purpose bring,
A Minister at least, perhaps a King.
Sweet is thy charming Song, but sung in vain:
20
What Fool would trust the Waves, and quit the Shore?
Early, and vain, into the World I came,
Big with false Hopes, and eager after Fame;
Till looking round me, 'ere the Race began,
Madmen, and giddy Fools, were all that ran;
Reclaim'd betimes, I from the Lists retire,
And thank the Gods whom my Retreat inspire.
In happier Times our Ancestors were bred,
When Virtue was the only Path to tread:
Give me, ye Gods! but the same Road to Fame,
Whate'er my Fathers dar'd, I dare the same.
Chang'd is the Scene, some baneful Planet rules
An impious World, contriv'd for Knaves and Fools.
Look now around, and with impartial Eyes
Consider, and examine all who rise;
Weigh well their Actions, and their treach'rous Ends,
How Greatness grows, and by what Steps ascends;
What Murders, Treasons, Perjuries, Deceit;
How many crush'd, to make one Monster great.
Would you command? Have Fortune in your Pow'r?
Hug when you stab, and smile when you devour?
Be bloody, false, flatter, forswear, and lye,
Turn Pander, Pathick, Parasite, or Spy;
Such thriving Arts may your wish'd Purpose bring,
A Minister at least, perhaps a King.
21
Fortune, we most unjustly partial call,
A Mistress free, who bids alike to all;
But on such Terms as only suit the Base,
Honour denies and shuns the foul Embrace.
The honest Man, who starves and is undone,
Not Fortune, but his Vertue keeps him down.
Had Cato bent beneath the conq'ring Cause,
He might have liv'd to give new Senates Laws;
But on vile Terms disdaining to be great,
He perish'd by his Choice, and not his Fate
Honours and Life, th'Usurper bids, and all
That vain mistaken Men Good-fortune call,
Virtue forbids, and sets before his Eyes
An honest Death, which he accepts, and dies:
O glorious Resolution! Noble Pride!
More honour'd, than the Tyrant liv'd, he dy'd;
More lov'd, more prais'd, more envy'd in his Doom,
Than Cæsar trampling on the Rights of Rome.
The Virtuous Nothing fear, but Life with Shame,
And Death's a pleasant Road that leads to Fame.
A Mistress free, who bids alike to all;
But on such Terms as only suit the Base,
Honour denies and shuns the foul Embrace.
The honest Man, who starves and is undone,
Not Fortune, but his Vertue keeps him down.
Had Cato bent beneath the conq'ring Cause,
He might have liv'd to give new Senates Laws;
But on vile Terms disdaining to be great,
He perish'd by his Choice, and not his Fate
Honours and Life, th'Usurper bids, and all
That vain mistaken Men Good-fortune call,
Virtue forbids, and sets before his Eyes
An honest Death, which he accepts, and dies:
O glorious Resolution! Noble Pride!
More honour'd, than the Tyrant liv'd, he dy'd;
More lov'd, more prais'd, more envy'd in his Doom,
Than Cæsar trampling on the Rights of Rome.
The Virtuous Nothing fear, but Life with Shame,
And Death's a pleasant Road that leads to Fame.
On Bones, and Scraps of Dogs let me be fed,
My Limbs uncover'd, and expos'd my Head
To bleakest Colds, a Kennel be my Bed.
This, and all other Martyrdom for thee,
Seems glorious, all, thrice beauteous Honesty!
Judge me, ye Pow'rs! Let Fortune tempt or frown,
I stand prepar'd, my Honour is my own.
My Limbs uncover'd, and expos'd my Head
To bleakest Colds, a Kennel be my Bed.
This, and all other Martyrdom for thee,
Seems glorious, all, thrice beauteous Honesty!
22
I stand prepar'd, my Honour is my own.
Ye great Disturbers, who in endless Noise,
In Blood and Rapine seek unnatural Joys;
For what is all this Bustle but to shun
Those Thoughts with which you dare not be alone?
As Men in Misery, opprest with Care,
Seek in the Rage of Wine to drown Despair.
Let others fight, and eat their Bread in Blood,
Regardless if the Cause be bad or good;
Or cringe in Courts, depending on the Nods
Of strutting Pygmies who would pass for Gods.
For me, unpractis'd in the Courtiers School,
Who loath a Knave, and tremble at a Fool;
Who honour generous Wycherly opprest,
Possest of little, worthy of the best,
Rich in himself, in Virtue that outshines
All but the Fame of his immortal Lines,
More than the wealthiest Lord, who helps to drain
The famish'd Land, and rouls in impious Gain;
What can I hope in Courts? Or how succeed?
Tygers and Wolves shall in the Ocean breed,
The Whale and Dolphin fatten on the Mead;
And every Element exchange its Kind,
Ere thriving Honesty in Courts we find.
In Blood and Rapine seek unnatural Joys;
For what is all this Bustle but to shun
Those Thoughts with which you dare not be alone?
As Men in Misery, opprest with Care,
Seek in the Rage of Wine to drown Despair.
Let others fight, and eat their Bread in Blood,
Regardless if the Cause be bad or good;
Or cringe in Courts, depending on the Nods
Of strutting Pygmies who would pass for Gods.
For me, unpractis'd in the Courtiers School,
Who loath a Knave, and tremble at a Fool;
Who honour generous Wycherly opprest,
Possest of little, worthy of the best,
Rich in himself, in Virtue that outshines
All but the Fame of his immortal Lines,
More than the wealthiest Lord, who helps to drain
The famish'd Land, and rouls in impious Gain;
What can I hope in Courts? Or how succeed?
Tygers and Wolves shall in the Ocean breed,
The Whale and Dolphin fatten on the Mead;
And every Element exchange its Kind,
Ere thriving Honesty in Courts we find.
23
Happy the Man, of Mortals happiest He,
Whose quiet Mind from vain Desires is free;
Whom neither Hopes deceive, nor Fears torment,
But lives at Peace, within himself content,
In Thought, or Act, accountable to none,
But to himself, and to the Gods alone:
O Sweetness of Content! Seraphick Joy!
Which nothing wants, and nothing can destroy.
Whose quiet Mind from vain Desires is free;
Whom neither Hopes deceive, nor Fears torment,
But lives at Peace, within himself content,
In Thought, or Act, accountable to none,
But to himself, and to the Gods alone:
O Sweetness of Content! Seraphick Joy!
Which nothing wants, and nothing can destroy.
Where dwells this Peace, this Freedom of the Mind?
Where, but in Shades remote from Human kind;
In flow'ry Vales, where Nymphs and Shepherds meet,
But never comes within the Palace Gate.
Farewell then Cities, Courts, and Camps, farewell,
Welcome, ye Groves, here let me ever dwell,
From Cares, from Business, and Mankind remove,
All but the Muses, and inspiring Love:
How sweet the Morn! How gentle is the Night!
How calm the Evening! And the Day how bright!
Where, but in Shades remote from Human kind;
In flow'ry Vales, where Nymphs and Shepherds meet,
But never comes within the Palace Gate.
Farewell then Cities, Courts, and Camps, farewell,
Welcome, ye Groves, here let me ever dwell,
From Cares, from Business, and Mankind remove,
All but the Muses, and inspiring Love:
How sweet the Morn! How gentle is the Night!
How calm the Evening! And the Day how bright!
From hence, as from a Hill, I view below
The crowded World, a mighty Wood in show,
Where several Wand'rers travel Day and Night
By different Paths, and none are in the Right.
The crowded World, a mighty Wood in show,
Where several Wand'rers travel Day and Night
By different Paths, and none are in the Right.
| The Genuine Works in Verse and Prose, Of the Right Honourable George Granville, Lord Lansdowne | |