To Macedon and Artaxerxes throne:

To fage philofophy next lend thine ear,
From Heav'n defcended to the low-rooft house
Of Socrates; see there his tenement,
Whom well infpir'd the oracle pronounc'd
Wifeft of men; from whose mouth issued forth
Mellifluous ftreams that water'd all the fchools
Of Academics old and new, with those
Sirnam'd Peripatetics, and the sect

Epicurean, and the Stoic fevere;

These here revolve, or, as thou lik'ft, at home, Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight; These rules will render thee a king complete Within thyself, much more with empire join'd.

275

280

To whom our Saviour fagely thus reply'd. 285 Think not but that I know these things, or think I know them not; not therefore am I short Of knowing what I ought: he who receives Light from above, from the fountain of light, No other doctrin needs, though granted true; 290 But these are falfe, or little elfe but dreams, Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. The first and wisest of them all profefs'd To know this only, that he nothing knew; The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits; 295 A third fort doubted all things, though plain sense; Others in virtue plac'd felicity,

But virtue join'd with riches and long life;

In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease;
The Stoic last in philosophic pride,

300

By him call'd virtue; and his virtuous man,
Wife, perfect in himself, and all poffeffing,
Equals to God, oft shames not to prefer,
As fearing God nor man, contemning all
Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life,
Which when he lifts, he leaves, or boasts he can,
For all his tedious talk is but vain boast,

Or fubtle fhifts conviction to evade.

304

310

Alas what can they teach, and not mislead,
Ignorant of themselves, of God much more,
And how the world began, and how man fell
Degraded by himself, on grace depending?
Much of the foul they talk, but all awry,
And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves
All glory arrogate, to God give none,

Rather accuse him under ufual names,
Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite

315

Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these True wisdom, finds her not, or by delufion

Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 320 However many books,

An empty cloud.

Wife men have faid are wearifome; who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit and judgment equal or superior,

(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere feek?) Uncertain and unfettled ftill remains,

326

Deep

Deep vers'd in books and fhallow in himself,
Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys,

And trifles for choice matters, worth a spunge;

As children gathering pebbles on the fhore. 330 Or if I would delight my private hours

With music or with poem, where so soon

As in our native language can I find
That folace? All our law and story strow'd
With hymns, our pfalms with artful terms infcrib'd,
Our Hebrew fongs and harps in Babylon,
That pleas'd fo well our victors ear, declare
That rather Greece from us these arts deriv'd;
Ill imitated, while they loudest sing

336

340

The vices of their Deities, and their own
In fable, hymn, or fong, fo personating
Their Gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame.
Remove their swelling epithets thick laid
As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest,
Thin fown with ought of profit or delight,
Will far be found unworthy to compare
With Sion's fongs, to all true tastes excelling,
Where God is prais'd aright, and God-like men,
The Holieft of Holies, and his Saints;

345

Such are from God inspir'd, not fuch from thee, 350
Unless where moral virtue is express'd

By light of nature not in all quite lost.
Their orators thou then extoll'ft, as those
The top of eloquence, ftatifts indeed,

And

And lovers of their country, as may

feem;

355

But herein to our prophets far beneath,

As men divinely taught, and better teaching
The folid rules of civil government

In their majestic unaffected stile

Than all the' oratory of Greece and Rome.
In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt,
What makes a nation happy', and keeps it so,
What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat;
These only with our law best form a king.

360

So fpake the Son of God; but Satan now 365 Quite at a lofs, for all his darts were spent, Thus to our Saviour with stern brow reply'd. Since neither wealth, nor honor, arms nor arts, Kingdom nor empire pleases thee, nor ought By me propos'd in life contemplative, Or active, tended on by glory', or fame, What doft thou in this world? the wilderness

370

For thee is fittest place; I found thee there,
And thither will return thee; yet remember
What I foretel thee, foon thou fhalt have cause 375
To wish thou never hadst rejected thus

Nicely or cautiously my offer'd aid,

Which would have set thee in fhort time with ease
On David's throne, or throne of all the world,
Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 380
When prophecies of thee are best fulfill'd.
Now contrary, if I read ought in Heaven,

Or

Or Heav'n write ought of fate, by what the ftars Voluminous, or fingle characters,

In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 385.
Sorrows, and labors, oppofition, hate

Attends thee, fcorns, reproaches, injuries,
Violence and ftripes, and laftly cruel death;

A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom,
Real or allegoric I difcern not,

Nor when, eternal fure, as without end,
Without beginning; for no date prefix'd
Directs me in the ftarry rubric fet.

390

power

395

400

So fay'ing he took (for ftill he knew his Not yet expir'd) and to the wilderness Brought back the Son of God, and left him there, Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rofe, As day-light funk, and brought in louring night Her fhadowy ofspring, unfubftantial both, Privation mere of light and absent day. Our Saviour meek and with untroubled mind. After his aery jaunt, though hurried fore, Hungry and cold betook him to his reft, Wherever, under fome concourse of fhades, 404 Whose branching arms thick interwin'd might shield From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head, But shelter'd flept in vain, for at his head The Tempter watch'd, and foon with ugly dreams Disturb'd his fleep; and either tropic now 409 'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav'n, the clouds