And farther from their wishes than before:
All, more or less, against each other dash,
To mutual hurt, by gusts of passion driv❜n,
And suff'ring more from folly than from fate.
Ocean! thou dreadful and tumultuous home
Of dangers, at eternal war with man!
Death's capital, where most he domineers,
With all his chosen terrors frowning round,
(Tho' lately feasted high at Albion's cost*)
Wide-opening, and loud-roaring still for more!
Too faithful mirror! how dost thou reflect
The melancholy face of human life!
The strong resemblance tempts me farther still:
And, haply, Britain may be deeper struck
By moral truth, in such a mirror seen,
Which nature holds for ever at her eye.
Self-flatter'd, unexperienc'd, high in hope,
When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gay, We cut our cable, launch into the world,
And fondly dream each wind and star our friend :
All in some darling enterprize embark'd;
But where is he can fathom its event!
Amid a multitude of artless hands,
Ruin's sure perquisite ! her lawful prize!
Some steer aright, but the black blast blows hard,
And puffs them wide of hope: with hearts of proof,
Full against wind and tide, some win their way.
And when strong Effort has deserv'd the port,
And tugg'd it into view, 'tis won! 'tis lost!
Tho' strong their oar, still stronger is their fate:
They strike! and, while they triumph, they expire.
In stress of weather most, some sink outright;
O'er them, and o'er their names, the billows close;
To-morrow knows not they were ever born.
Others a short memorial leave behind,
Like a flag floating, when the bark's ingulph'd;
It floats a moment, and is seen no more.
One Cæsar lives; a thousand are forgot;
How few, beneath auspicious planets born,
(Darlings of Providence! fond Fate's elect!)
With swelling sails make good the promis'd port,
With all their wishes freighted! yet e'en these,
Freighted with all their wishes, soon complain;
Free from misfortune, not from nature free,
They still are men; and when is man secure?
As fatal time as storm! the rush of years
Beats down their strength; their numberless escapes
In ruin end. And now their proud success
But plants new terrors on the victor's brow:
What pain to quit the world, just made their own,
Their nest so deeply drown'd, and built so high!
Too low they build who build beneath the stars.
Woe then apart (if woe apart can be
From mortal man) and Fortune at our nod,
The gay! rich! great! triumphant! and august!
What are they?-The most happy (strange to say)
Convince me most of human misery.
What are they? smiling wretches of to-morrow!
More wretched then than e'er their slave can be,
Their treach'rous blessings, at the day of need,
Like other faithless friends, unmask, and sting:
Then what provoking indigence in wealth!
What aggravated impotence in pow'r !
High titles, then, what insult of their pain!
If that sole anchor, equal to the waves,
Immortal Hope! defies not the rude storm,
Takes comfort from the foaming billow's rage,
And makes a welcome harbour of the tomb.
Is this a sketch of what thy soul admires ? "But here (thou say'st) the miseries of life "Are huddled in a group: a more distinct "Survey, perhaps, might bring thee better news." Look on life's stages; they speak plainer still; The plainer they, the deeper wilt thou sigh. Look on thy lovely boy; in him behold The best that can befal the best on earth;
The boy has virtue by his mother's side:
Yes, on Florello look: a father's heart
Is tender, tho' the man's is made of stone:
The truth, thro' such a medium seen, may make Impression deep, and fondness prove thy friend.
Florello! lately cast on this rude coast A helpless infant, now a heedless child.
poor Clarissa's throes thy care succeeds; Care full of love, and yet severe as hate!
O'er thy soul's joy how oft thy fondness frowns! Needful austerities his will restrain,
As thorns fence in the tender plant from harm.
As yet his reason cannot go alone,'
But asks a sterner nurse to lead it on.
His little heart is often terrify'd;
The blush of morning, in his cheek, turns pale;
Its pearly dew-drop trembles in his eye,
His harmless eye! and drowns an angel there.
Ah! what avails his innocence? the task
Enjoin'd must discipline his early powers;
He learns to sigh ere he is known to sin;
Guiltless, and sad! a wretch before the fall!
How cruel this! more cruel to forbear.
Our nature such, with necessary pains
We purchase prospects of precarious peace:
Tho' not a father, this might steal a sigh.
Suppose him disciplin'd aright (if not,
"Twill sink our poor account to poorer still)
Ripe from the tutor, proud of liberty,
He leaps enclosure, bounds into the world;
The world is taken, after ten years toil,
Like ancient Troy, and all its joys his own.
Alas! the world's a tutor more severe,
Its lessons hard, and ill deserve his pains;
Unteaching all his virtuous Nature taught,
Or books (fair Virtue's advocates !) inspir'd.
For who receives him into public life?
Men of the world, the terræ-filial breed,
Welcome the modest stranger to their sphere,
(Which glitter'd long, at distance, in his sight)
And in their hospitable arms enclose;
Men who think nought so strong of the romance,
So rank knight-errant, as a real friend ;
Men that act up to Reason's golden rule,
All weakness of affection quite subdu'd;
Men that would blush at being thought sincere,
And feign, for glory, the few faults they want;
That love a lie, where truth would pay as well,
As if to them Vice shone her own reward.
Lorenzo! canst thou bear a shocking sight? Such, for Florello's sake, 'twill now appear, See the steel'd files of season'd veterans,
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