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From motives fuch as his, though not the best, Springs in due time supply for the diftreffed; Not lefs effectual than what love beftows, Except that office clips it as it goes.

But left. I feem to fin against a friend,
And wound the grace I mean to recommend,
(Though vice derided with a juft defign
Implies no trefpafs against love divine,)
Once more I would adopt the graver style,
A teacher should be fparing of his smile.
Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame;
He hides behind a magifterial air

His own offences, and ftrips others bare ;
Affects indeed a moft humane concern,
That men, if gently tutored, will not learn;
That mulish folly not to be reclaimed
By fofter methods, muft be made ashamed;
But (I might inftance in St. Patrick's dean)
Too often rails to gratify his fpleen.
Moft fatirifts are indeed a public fcourge;
Their mildest phyfic is a farrier's purge;
Their acrid temper turns as foon as stirred,
The milk of their good purpose all to curd.
Their zeal begotten as their works rehearse,
By lean despair upon an empty purse,

The wild affaffins ftart into the ftreet,

Prepared to poignard whomfoever they meet.
No fkill in fwordmanship, however juft,
Can be fecure againft a madman's thruft;
And even virtue fo unfairly matched,

Although immortal, may be pricked or fcratched.
When fcandal has new minted an old lie,
Or taxed invention for a fresh supply,
'Tis called a fatire, and the world appears
Gathering around it with erected ears:

A thousand names are toffed into the crowd;
Some whispered foftly, and some twanged aloud;
Juft as the fapience of an author's brain
Suggefts it fafe or dangerous to be plain.
Strange! how the frequent interjected dash
Quickens a market, and helps off the trash;
The important letters, that include the reft,
Serve as a key to those that are fuppreffed;
Conjecture gripes the victims in his paw,
The world is charmed, and Scrib escapes the law.
So, when the cold damp fhades of night prevail,
Worms may be caught by either head or tail;
Forcibly drawn from many a clofe recefs,
They meet with little pity, no redress;
Plunged in the ftream they lodge upon the mud,
Food for the famished rovers of the flood.

All zeal for a reform, that gives offence To peace and charity, is mere pretence: A bold remark, but which, if well applied, Would humble many a towering poet's pride. Perhaps the man was in a sportive fit, And had no other play-place for his wit; Perhaps enchanted with the love of fame, He fought the jewel in his neighbour's fhame; Perhaps whatever end he might pursue, The cause of virtue could not be his view. At every ftroke wit flashes in our eyes; The turns are quick, the polished points surprise, But shine with cruel and tremendous charms, That while they pleafe poffefs us with alarms; So have I seen, (and haftened to the fight On all the wings of holiday delight)

Where ftands that monument of ancient power,

Named with emphatic dignity, the tower,

Guns, halberts, fwords, and piftols, great and small, In ftarry forms difpofed upon the wall;

We wonder, as we gazing stand below,

That brass and fteel should make so fine a show;
But though we praise the exact defigner's skill,
Account them implements of mischief still.
No works shall find acceptance in that day,
When all disguises shall be rent away,

That square not truly with the fcripture plan,
Nor fpring from love to God, or love to man.
As he ordains things fordid in their birth
To be refolved into their parent earth;
And, though the soul shall seek fuperior orbs,
Whatever this world produces, it absorbs;
So felf ftarts nothing, but what tends apace
Home to the goal, where it began the race.
Such as our motive is our aim must be,
If this be fervile, that can never be free:
If felf employ us, whatsoever is wrought,
We glorify that self, not him we ought;
Such virtues had need prove their own reward,
The judge of all men owes them no regard.
True Charity, a plant divinely nursed,
Fed by the love, from which it rose at first,
Thrives against hope, and in the rudeft scene,
Storms but enliven its unfading green;
Exuberant is the fhadow it fupplies,

Its fruit on earth, its growth above the skies.
To look at him, who formed us and redeemed,
So glorious now, though once fo difefteemed,
To fee a God ftretch forth his human hand,
To uphold the boundless fcenes of his command
To recollect that in a form like our's,

He bruifed beneath his feet the infernal powers,

Captivity led captive, rose to claim

The wreath he won, fo dearly in our name;
That throned above all height he condescends
To call the few that trust in him his friends;
That in the heaven of heavens, that space he deems
Too fcanty for the exertion of his beams,
And shines, as if impatient to bestow
Life and a kingdom upon worms below;
That fight imparts a never-dying flame,
Though feeble in degree, in kind the fame.
Like him the foul thus kindled from above
Spreads wide her arms of universal love;
And ftill enlarged as the receives the grace,
Includes creation in her close embrace.
Behold a Chr.ftian!-and without the fires
The founder of that name alone infpires,
Though all accomplishment, all knowledge meet,
To make the fhining prodigy complete,
Whoever boafts that name-behold a cheat!
Were love, in these the world's laft doting years,
As frequent as the want of it appears,

The churches warmed, they would no longer hold
Such frozen figures, ftiff as they are cold;

Relenting forms would lofe their power, or ceafe;
And even the dipt and sprinkled live in peace:
Each heart would quit its prifon in the breaft,
And flow in free communion with the reft.'

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