A man so various that he seemed to be
Not one but all mankind's epitome.
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong,
Was every thing by starts, and nothing long;
But, in the course of one revolving moon,
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.
Blest madman, who could every hour employ
With something new to wish or to enjoy.
Railing and praising were his usual themes,
And both, to show his judgment, in extremes.
So over-violent or over-civil,
That every man with him was god or devil.
In squandering wealth was his peculiar art,
Nothing went unrewarded but desert;
Beggared by fools whom still he found too late :
He had his jest, and they had his estate.
He laughed himself from court, then sought relief,
By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief:
For, spite of him, the weight of business fell
On Absalom and wise Achitophel.
5. CLEOPATRA ON THE CYDNUS.
Her galley down the silver Cydnus rowed, The tackling silk, the streamers waved with gold; The gentle winds were lodged in purple sails: Her nymphs like Nereids round her couch were placed, Where she, another sea-born Venus, lay.
She lay and leant her cheek upon her hand,
And cast a look so languishingly sweet,
As if, secure of all beholders' hearts,
Neglecting, she could take them: boys, like cupids,
Stood fanning, with their painted wings, the winds,
That played about her face; but if she smiled,
A darting glory seemed to blaze abroad,
That men's desiring eyes were never wearied,
But hung upon the object. To soft flutes
The silver oars kept time; and while they played,
The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight;
And both to thought. 'Twas heaven, or somewhat more:
For she so charmed all hearts, that gazing crowds
Stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath
To give their welcome voice.
Three poets in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed:
The next in majesty; in both the last.
The force of nature could no further go;
To make a third, she joined the former two.
7. FORTITUde.
Empire o'er the earth and main
Heav'n that gave can take again:
But a mind that's truly brave
Stands despising
And can ne'er be made a slave.
Within a homestead lived, without a peer
For crowing loud, the noble chanticleer,
More certain was the crowing of this cock
To number hours than is an abbey-clock ;
And sooner than the morning bell was rung,
He clapped his wings upon his roost and sung.
High was his comb, and coral-red withal,
In dents embattled like a castle-wall:
His bill was raven-black, and shone like jet;
Blue were his legs, and orient were his feet;
White were his nails, like silver to behold;
His body glittered like the burnished gold.
The fiery courser, when he hears from far
The sprightly trumpets and the shouts of war,
Pricks up his ears, and trembling with delight,
Shifts place, and paws, and hopes the promised fight;
On his right shoulder his thick mane reclined
Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind.
Eager he stands,-then, starting with a bound. He turns the turf, and wakes the solid ground: Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow; He bears his rider headlong on the foe.
One world sufficed not Alexander's mind,
Cooped up he seemed, in earth and seas confined;
And, struggling, stretched his restless limbs about
The narrow globe, to find a passage out:
Yet, entered in the brick-built town, he tried
The tomb, and found the strait dimensions wide
Death only this mysterious truth unfolds,
The mighty soul how small a body holds.
11. THE COUNTRY-BUMPKIN.
A clownish mien, a voice with rustic sound,
And stupid eyes that ever lov'd the ground.
The ruling rod, the father's forming care,
Were exercis'd in vain, on wit's despair;
The more inform'd, the less he understood,
And deeper sunk by flound'ring in the mud.
His corn and cattle were his only care,
And his supreme delight a country fair:
His quarter-staff, which he could ne'er forsake,
Hung half before, and half behind his back;
He trudg'd along, unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went for want of thought.
12. THE INFERNAL SACRIFICE,
Let the dark mysteries of hell begin.
Chuse the darkest part o'th' grove,
Such as ghosts at noon-day love;
Dig a trench, and dig it nigh!
Where the bones of Laius lie:
Altars rais'd of turf or stone
Will th' infernal powers have none.
Is the sacrifice made fit ?
Draw her backward to the pit :
Draw the barren heifer back:
Barren let her be and black.
Cut the curled hair that grows
Full between her horns and brows:
Pour in blood, and blood-like wine,
To Mother-Earth and Proserpine.
Mingle milk into the stream,
Feast the ghosts that love the steam.
Snatch a brand from fun'ral pile;
Toss it in, to make 'em boil:
And turn your faces from the sun,
Answer me, if all be done?
Fortune takes care that fools should still be seen : She places 'em aloft, o'the top-most spoke
Of all her wheels. Fools are the daily work
Of nature, her vocation: If she form
A man, she loses by 't; 'tis too expensive; 'Twould make ten fools: a man's a prodigy.
LXXIX. THOMAS KEN.
1. MORNING HYMN.
Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth and early rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice.
Thy precious time mispent redeem
Each present day thy last esteem ;
Improve thy talent with due care :
For the great day thyself prepare.
In conversation be sincere,
Keep conscience as the noon tide clear;
Think how all-seeing God thy ways
And all thy secret thoughts surveys.
By influence of the light divine
See thy own light to others shine;
Reflect all heaven's propitious ways
In ardent love and cheerful praise.
Wake and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who all night long unwearied sing
High praise to the eternal king.
I wake, I wake, ye heavenly choir;
May your devotion me inspire,
That I like you my age may spend,
Like you may on my God attend.
May I like you in God delight,
Have all day long my God in sight,
Perform like you my maker's will;
D, may I never more do ill!
Had I your wings, to heaven I'd fly,
But God shall that defect supply,
And my soul, winged with warm desire,
Shall all day long to heaven aspire.
All praise to thee who safe hast kept,
And hast refreshed me whilst I slept ;
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake.
I would not wake nor rise again,
E'en heaven itself I would disdain
Wert thou not there to be enjoyed,
And I in hymns to be employed.
Heaven is, dear Lord, where'er thou art,
O never then from me depart,
For to my soul 'tis hell to be
But for one moment void of Thee.
Lord, I my vows to Thee renew,
Disperse my sins as morning dew,
Guard my first springs of thought and wil
And with thyself my spirit fill.
Direct, control, suggest this day
All I design, or do, or say;
That all their powers, with all their might,
In thy sole glory may unite.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below ;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
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