I.The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,Is virtue's prize: a better would you fix?Then give Humility a coach and six,Justice a conq'ror's sword, or truth a gown,Or public spirit its great cure, a crown.
...
Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life?Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife:If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin'd,The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind:Or ravish'd with the whistling of a name,See Cromwell, damn'd to everlasting fame!If all, united, thy ambition call,From ancient story learn to scorn them all.There, in the rich, the honour'd, fam'd, and great,See the false scale of happiness complete!
...
II.Oh master of the poet, and the song!And while the Muse now stoops, or now ascends,To man's low passions, or their glorious ends,Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise,To fall with dignity, with temper rise;Form'd by thy converse, happily to steerFrom grave to gay, from lively to severe;Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease,Intent to reason, or polite to please.Oh! while along the stream of time thy nameExpanded flies, and gathers all its fame,Say, shall my little bark attendant sail,Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale?When statesmen, heroes, kings, in dust repose,Whose sons shall blush their fathers were thy foes,Shall then this verse to future age pretendThou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend?That urg'd by thee, I turn'd the tuneful artFrom sounds to things, from fancy to the heart;For wit's false mirror held up nature's light;Shew'd erring pride, whatever is, is right;That reason, passion, answer one great aim;That true self-love and social are the same;That virtue only makes our bliss below;And all our knowledge is, ourselves to know.
