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For ev'ry fair object my eyes can survey,

Contributes to gladden my heart.
How vainly through infinite trouble and strife

The many their labours employ!
Since all that is truly delightful in life,
Is what all, if they will, may enjoy.

FITZGERALD.

S E C' T. III.

ON MENTAL BEAUTY.

THE

charms which blooming beauty shows

From faces heav'nly fair,
We to the lily and the rose

With semblance apt compare :
With semblance apt, for ah! how soon,

How soon they all decay!
The lily drops, the rose is gone,

And beauty fades away.
But when bright virtue shines confeft,

With sweet discretion join'd;
When mildness calms the peaceful breaft,

And wisdom guides the mind;
When charms like these, dear maid, conspire

Thy person to approve,
They kindle generous 'chalte defire,
And everlasting love.

Beyond

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Beyond the reach of time or fate
These
graces

shall endure ;
Still, like the passion they create,

Eternal, conftant, pure.

F1TZGERALD

S E C T.

IV.

ON CHEERFULNESS.

FAIR
AIR as the dawning light ! auspicious guest !

Source of all comfort to the human breast !
Depriy'd of thee, in sad despair we moan,
And tedious roll the heavy moments on.
Though beauteous objects all around us rise
To charm the fancy, and delight the eyes ;
Though art's fair works, and nature's gifts conspire
To please each senfe, and satiate each desire,
'Tis joyless all-till thy enliv’ning ray
Scatters the melancholy gloom away.
Then opens to the soul a heavenly scene,
Gladness and peace, all sprightly, all ferene.

Where doft thou deign, say, in what bleft retreat, To choose thy mansion, and to fix thy feat ? Thy facred presence how shall we explore? Can av'rice gain thee with her golden store ? Can vain ambition with her boafted charms Tempt thee within her wide-extended arms? No, with Content alone canst thou abide, Thy fifter, ever smiling by thy fide.

When

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When boon companions void of ev'ry care
Crown the full bowl, and the rich banquet share,
And give a loose to pleasure--art thou there?
Or when th' assembled great and fair advance
To celebrate the mask, the play, the dance,
Whilst beauty spreads its sweetest charms around,
And airs ecstatic swell their tuneful sound,
Art thou within the pompous circle found?
Does not thy influence more sedately shine ?
Can such tumultuous joys as these be thine ?
Surely more mild, more constant in their courses
Thy pleasures issue from a nobler source;
From sweet discretion ruling in the breast,
From paffions temper'd, and from lusts reprek;
From thoughts unconscious of a guilty smart,
And the calm transports of an honest heart.

Thy aid, O ever faithful, ever kind !
Thro' life, thro' death, attends the virtuous mind;
Of angry fate wards from us ev'ry blow,
Cures ev'ry ill, and softens ev'ry woe.
Whatever good our mortal state desires,
What wisdom finde, or innocence inspires ;
From nature's bounteous hand whatever flows,
Whate'er our Maker's providence beftows,
By thee mankind enjoys; by thee repays
A grateful tribute of perpetual praise.

FITZGERALD

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S E C T. V.

ON'INDUSTRY.

1

UEEN of all virtues ! for whate'er we call

Godlike and great, 'tis thou obtain'ít it all.
No task too arduous for thy strong effay,
And art and nature own thy potent sway.
Inspir'd by thee to each superior aim,
We press with ardour thro' the paths of fame,
Up to the facred top; and leave behind
Th’inglorious crowd, the herd of human kind; ,
While wisdom round us pourg her heavenly ray,
And old experience guides our steady way.
No anxious care, no furious lusts controul
The free habitual vigour of the soul.
Each part, each station gracefully we fill,
And bend and shape our fortune to our will.

The hero, down through ev'ry age renown'd,
With triumph, praise, and glorious titles crown'd,
By thee has gain'd his honourable spoils,
And mighty fame atchiev'd by mighty toils.
The fage, whilst learning studious he pursues,
By thee the stubborn sciences subdues ;
Through truth's wide fields expatiates unconfin'd,
And stores for ever his capacious mind.
Nor seek the lower ranks thy aid in vain ;
The poor mechanic and the lab’ring swain:
Health, peace, and sweet content to these it brings,
More precious prizes than the wealth of kings.

When

When whelming round us death's fad terrors roll,
'Tis thou speak ft peace and comfort to the soul,
Then, if our recollecting thoughts present
A well-plan'd life in virtuous labour spent ;
If useful we have pass'd through every stage,
And paid our debt of service to the age;
If still we've made our duty our delight,
Nor hid our master's talent from our fight,
All's well, 'tis all by our own heart approv'd,
From hence we pass by God and man belovd;
Cheerful we pass, to Heaven's high will resign'd,
And leave a blefsed memory behind.

FITZGERALD

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WHERE proud Augufta

, bleft with long repose,
Her ancient wall and ruin'd bulwark shows;
Close by a verdant plain, with graceful height
A stately fabric rises to the fight.
Yet, though its parts all elegantly shine,
And sweet proportion crowns the whole design;
Though art, in strong expressive sculpture shown,
Confummate art informs the breathing stone;
Far other views than these within

appear,
And woe and horror dwell for ever here.
For ever from the echoing roofs rebounds
A dreadful din of heterogeneous sounds.
From this, from that, from ev'ry quarter rise
Loud fhouts, and sullen groans, and doleful cries ;

Heart

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