Untasted, through mad appetite for more;
Georg'd to the throat, yet lean and rav'nous still.
Sagacious All, to trace the smallest game,
And bold to seize the greatest. If (blest chance!)
Court-zephyrs sweetly breathe, they launch, they fly,
O'er just, o'er sacred, all forbidden ground,
Drunk with the burning scent of place or pow'r,
Staunch to the foot of lucre, till they die.
Or, if for men you take them, as Í mark
Their manners, thou their various fates survey.
With aim mis-measur'd, and impetuous speed,
Some darting, strike their ardent wish far off,
Thro' fury to possess it: Some succeed,
But stumble, and let fall the taken prize.
From some, by sudden blasts, 'tis whirl'd away,
And lodg'd in bosoms that ne'er dreamt of gain.
To some it sticks so close, that, when torn off,
Torn is the man, and mortal is the wound.
Some o'er enamour'd of their bags, run man,
Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
Together some (unhappy rivals!) seize,
And rend abundance into poverty;
Loud croaks the raven of the law, and smiles:
Smiles too the goddess; but smiles most at those,
(Just victims of exorbitant desire !)
Who perish at their own request, and, whelm'd
Beneath her load of lavish grants, expire.
Fortune is famous for her numbers slain,
The number small, which happiness can bear.
Tho' various for a while their fates; at last
One curse involves them all: At death's approach,
All read their riches backward into loss,
And mourn, in just proportion to their store.
And death's approach (if orthodox my song)
Is hasten'd by the lure of fortune's smiles.
And art thou still a glutton of bright gold?
And art thou still rapacious of thy ruin?
Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow;
A blow, which, while it executes, alarms;
And startles thousands with a single fall.
As when some stately growth of oak, or pine,
Which nods aloft, and proudly spreads her shade,
The sun's defiance, and the flock's defence;
By the strong strokes of lab'ring hinds subdu'd,
Loud groans her last, and, rushing from her height,
In cumbrous ruin, thunders to the ground:
The conscious forest trembles at the shock,
And hill, and stream, and distant dale, resound.
These high-aim'd darts of death, and these alone,
Should I collect, my quiver would be full.
A quiver, which suspended in mid-air,
Or near heav'n's archer, in the zodiack, hung,
(So could it be) should draw the public eye,
The gaze and contemplation of mankind!
A constellation awful, yet benign,
To guide the gay through life's tempestuous wave j
Nor suffer them to strike the common rock,
"From greater danger to grow more secure,
"And, wrapt in happiness, forget their fate."
LYSANDER, happy past the common lot,
Was warn'd of danger, but too gay to fear.
He woo'd the fair ASPASIA: She was kind:
In youth, form, fortune, fame, they both were blest ::
All who knew, envy'd; yet in envy lov'd:
Can fancy form more finisht happiness?
Fixt was the nuptial hour. Her stately dome
Rose on the sounding beach. The glittering spires
Float in the wave, and break against the shore:
So break those glitt'ring shadows, human joys.
The faithless morning smil'd: he takes his leave,
To re-embrace, in ecstasies, at eve.
The rising storm forbids.
Untold, she saw it in her servant's eye.
She felt it seen (her heart was apt to feel;)
And, drown'd, without the furious ocean's aid
In suffocating sorrows, shares his tomb.
Now, round the sumptuous, bridal monument,
The guilty billows innocently roar ;
And the rough sailor passing, drops a tear.
A tear?-Can tears suffice?-But not for me.
How vain our efforts! and our arts, how vain!
The distant train of thought I took, to shun,
Has thrown me on my fate-These died together;
Happy in ruin! undivorc'd by death!
Or ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is
peace-
NARCISSA! Pity bleeds at thought of thee.
Yet thou wast only near me; not myself.
Survive myself?-That cures all other woe.
NARCISSA lives; PHILANDER is forgot.
O the soft commerce! O the tender ties,
Close-twisted with the fibres of the heart!
Which, broken, break them; and drain off the soul
Of human joy; and make it pain to live-
And is it then to live? When such friends part,
''Tis the survivor dies-My heart, no more.
INFIDEL RECLAIMED.
IN TWO PARTS.
THE NATURE, PROOF, AND IMPORTANCE,
Where, among other things, GLORY and RICHES are
IRST LORD COMMISSIONER OF THE TREASURY, AND CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER.
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