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With annual joy the reddening shoots to greet,
My lord advances with majestic mien, Smit with the mighty pleasure to be seen : But soft-by regular approach--not yet- 129 First through the length of yon hot terrace sweat: And when up ten steep slopes yon've dragg'd your Just at his study-door he'll bless your eyes. [thighs,
His study! with what authors is it stored ?
150 But, hark! the chiming clocks to dinner call; A hundred footsteps scrape the marble hall : The rich buffet well-colour'd serpents grace, And gaping Tritons spew to wash your face. Is this a dinner? this a genial room? No; 'tis a temple, and a hecatomb; A solemn sacrifice perform'd in state, You drink by measure, and to minutes eat. So quick retires each flying course, you'd swear Sancho's dread doctor and his wand were there. 160 Between each act the trembling salvers ring, From soup to sweet wine, and God bless the King.' In plenty starving, tantalized in state: And complaisantly help'd to all I hate; Treated, caress’d, and tir'd, I take my leave, Sick of his civil pride from morn to eve; I curse such lavish cost and little skill, And swear po day was ever pass'd so ill.
Yet hence the poor are clothed, the hungry fed ; Health to himself, and to his infants bread,
170 The labourer bears; what his hard heart denies, His charitable vanity supplies.
Another age shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope, and nod on the parterre,
Deep harvests bury all his pride has plann'd,
Who then shall grace, or who improve the soil ?
His father's acres who enjoys in peace,
You, too, proceed'! make falling arts your care,
TO MR. ADDISON.
Occasioned by his Dialogues on Medals. This was originally written in the year 1715, when Mr. Addison intended to publish his book of medals; it was some time before he was secretary of state ; but not published till Mr. Tickell's edition of his works; at which time his verses on Mr Craggs, which conclude the poem, were added, vis.
As the third Epistle treated of the extremes of avarice and profusion; and the fourth took up one particular branch of the latter, namely, the vanity of expense in people of wealth and quality, and was therefore a corollary to the third; so this treats of one circumstance of that vanity, as it appears in the common collectors of old coins ; and is, therefore, a corollary to the fourth. See the wild waste of all-devouring years ! How Rome her own sad sepulchre appears ! With nodding arches, broken temples spread ! The very tombs now vanish'd like their dead! Imperial wonders raised on nations spoil'd, Where, mix'd with slaves, the groaning martyr toil'd: Huge theatres, that now unpeopled woods, Now drain'd a distant country of her floods : Fanes, which admiring gods with pride survey; Statues of men, scarce less alive than they; 10 Some felt the silent stroke of mouldering age, Some hostile fury, some religious rage : Barbarian blindness, Christian zeal conspire, And Papal piety, and Gothic fire. Perhaps, by its own ruin saved from flame, Some buried marble half preserves a name; That name the learn'd with fierce disputes pursue, And give to Titus old Vespasian's due.
Ambition sigh'd : she found it vain to trust The faithless column and the crumbling bust; 20 Huge moles, whose shadows stretch'd from shore to Their ruins perish’d, and their place no more! (shore, Convinced, she now contracts her vast design, And all her triumphs shrink into a coin. A narrow orb each crowded conquest keeps, Beneath her palm here sad Judea weeps. Now scantier limits the proud arch confine, And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine ; A small Euphrates through the piece is roll'd, And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
30 The medal faithful to its charge of fame, Througła climes and ages bears each form and name: In one short view subjected to our eye, Gods, emperors, heroes, sages, beauties, lie.
With sharpen'd sight pale antiquaries pore,
Theirs is the vanity, the learning thine :
5Q The verse and sculpture bore an equal part, And art reflected images to art.
Oh, when shall Britain, conscious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame? In living medals see her wars enroll’d, And vanquish'd realms supply recording gold? Here, rising bold, the patriot's honest face ; There, warriors frowning in historic brass ; Then future ages with delight shall see How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's looks agree; 60 Or in fair series laurell'd bards be shewn, A Virgil there, and here an Addison. Then shall thy Craggs (and let me call him mine) On the cast ore, another Pollio, shine; With aspect open shall erect his head, And round the orb in lasting notes be read, • Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear: Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend; 70 Ennobled by himself, by all approved, And praised, unenvied, by the muse he loved.