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PRINTED

BY J. MILLI KEN BOOKSELLER, IN
THE MARKET-PLACE.

MDCCLXXXV.

280.

0.

487

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H! who can tell how hard it is to climb

The steep where Fame's proud temple fainesafar ! Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime 3.!!s felt the influence of malignant ftar, wag

d with Fortune an eternal war!
Check’d by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,
And Poverty's unconquerable bar,

In life's low vale reinote hus pined alone,
Then dropt into the grave, uapitied and unknown!

And

There

II.
And

yet, the languor of inglorious days,
Not equally oppreslive is to all.
Him who ne'er liften 'd to the voice of praise,
The filence of negle&t can ne'er appal.

are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call, Wou'd forink to hear th’obftreperous trump of Fame Supremely blef if to their portion Call

Health, competence, and peace. Nor higher aim Ilal He, whose limple talc these artless lines pror claim.

B

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