« 上一頁繼續 »
All-winning mild to each of lowly state; To equals free, unservile to the great;
40 Greatness you honour, when by worth acquir’d; Worth is by worth in every rank admir’d. Greatness you scorn, when titles insult speak; Proud to vain pride, to honour'd meekness meek. That worthlefs bliss, which others court, you fly ; 45 That worthy woe, they shun, attracts your eye.
But Mall the Mule refound alone your praise? No-let the public fiend ex alt her lays ! O trace that friend with me!-he's yours !--he's
mine! The world's beneficent behold him shine!
Is wealth his sphere? If riches, like a tide,
Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,
Is power his orb? He then, like power divine, 65 On ail, though with a varied ray, will thine.
Ere power was his, the man, he once careli'd,
Thus to no one, no sect, no clime confin'd, His boundless love embraces all mankind; And all their virtues in his life are known ; 85 And all their joys and sorrows are his own.
These are the lights, where itands that friend con.
This, this the fpirit, which informs thy breaft. Through fortune's cloud thy genuine worth can shine; What would'It thou not, were wealth and greatness thine ?
TOW various birds in melting concert sing, ,
And hail the beauty of the opening spring: Now to thy dreains the nightingale complains, Till the lark wakes thee with her checrful Itrains; Wakes, in thy verse and friendship ever kind, 5 Melodious comfort to my jarring mind.
Oh could my soul through repths of knowledge see, Could I read nature and mankind like thee, I'Nould o’ercome, or bear the shocks of fare, And e'en draw envy to the humblest state. Thou canst raise honour from each ill event, From shocks gain vigour, and from want content.
Think not light poetry my life's chief care! The Muse's mansion is, at best, but air ; But, if more folid works my meaning forms, 15 Th’unfinish'd structures fall by fortune's storms.
Oft have I said we falsely those accuse, Whose god-like fouls life's middle state refuse. Self-love, I cry'd, there seeks ignoble rest; Care Neeps not calm, when millions wake unblest; 20
Mean + See Dyer's Poems.
Mean let me frick, or spread sweet shade o’er all,
Though verse can never give my soul her aim; 25
35 Burthens that world, his duty bids him aid.
Say, what have honours to allure the mind, Which he gains most, who least has serv'd mankind ? Titles, when worn by fools, I dare defpise ; Yet they claim homage, when they crown the wise.. 40 When high distinction marks deserving heirs, Desert ftill dignifies the mark it wears. But, who to birth alone would honours owe ? Honours, if true, from seeds of merit grow. Those trees, with sweetest chai ms, invite our eyes, 45 Which, from our own engraftment, fruitful rise. Still we love best what we with labour gain, As the child's dearer for the mother's pain.
The Great I would not envy nor deride ; Nor stoop to swell a yain Superior's pride ; 50
Nor view an Equal's hope with jealous eyes ;
This may they learn, who close thy life attend
V E R S E
OCCASIONED BY THE
VICE-PRINCIPAL of St Mary-HALL, OXFORD,
to the Living of Gosfield in Essex. W
HILE by mean arts and meaner patrons rise
Priests, whom the learned and the good despise; This fees fair Knight, in whose transcendent mind, Are wisdom, purity, and truth enshrin'd.