A kingdom of the just then let it be : But who, but God, can tell us who they are? And what rewards your virtue, punish mine. 135 140 WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT.—This world, 'tis true, 145 Was made for Cæsar-but for Titus too; And which more bless'd? who chain'd his country, say, Or he whose virtue sigh'd to lose a day? VI. But sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.' What then? Is the reward of virtue bread? 150 That, vice may merit, 'tis the price of toil; The knave deserves it, when he tills the soil; The knave deserves it when he tempts the main, Where folly fights for kings, or dives for gain. The good man may be weak, be indolent; 155 'No-shall the good want health, the good want power?' Add health and power and every earthly thing— "Why bounded power? why private? why no king? 160 Nay, why external for internal given? Why is not man a god, and earth a heaven?' 165 Say, at what part of nature will they stand? 170 Justice a conqueror's sword, or truth a gown, Weak, foolish man! will Heaven reward us there, 175 Yet sigh'st thou now for apples and for cakes? Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife, 180 185, Judges and senates have been bought for gold; Oh fool! to think God hates the worthy mind, The lover and the love of human kind, 190 Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear, Because he wants a thousand pounds a year. Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies. Fortune in men has some small difference made, 195 6 'What differ more,' you cry, than crown and cowl?' I'll tell you, friend! a wise man and a fool. You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Or, cobler-like, the parson will be drunk; Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow The rest is all but leather or prunello. 200 Stuck o'er with titles and hung round with strings, 205 In quiet flow from Lucrece to Lucrece : But by your father's worth, if yours you rate, 210 Nor own your fathers have been fools so long. 215 Look next on greatness: say where greatness lies 'Where, but among the heroes and the wise?' Heroes are much the same, the point 's agreed, From Macedonia's madmen to the Swede: 220 The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find, Not one looks backward, onward still he goes, Yet ne'er looks forward further than his nose. No less alike the politic and wise; 225 All sly slow things, with circumspective eyes; But grant that those can conquer, these can cheat; 230 Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. 235 What's fame? a fancied life in others' breath, A thing beyond us, e'en before our death. Just what you hear you have; and what's unknown, The same (my lord) if Tully's, or your own. 240 All that we feel of it begins and ends In the small circle of our foes or friends; To all beside as much an empty shade An Eugene living, as a Cæsar dead; Alike or when or where they shone or shine, 245 Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine. A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod; An honest man 's the noblest work of God. Fame but from death a villain's name can save, As justice tears his body from the grave; 250 When what to oblivion better were resign'd, Is hung on high, to poison half mankind. Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart : In parts superior what advantage lies? 255 260 Truth would you teach, or save a sinking land! 265 Bring then these blessings to a strict account: Make fair deductions; see to what they 'mount, If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shined, 270 275 280 From ancient story, learn to scorn them all. 285 290 295 |