Armstrong., A graceful loofenefs, when he pleas'd, put on,
And laughing could inftruct. Much had he-
read,

Much more had feen; he ftudied from the life
And in th' original perus'd mankind.
Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life,
He pitied man: and much he pitied thofe
Whom falfely finiling fate has

means

curs'd with

To diffipate their days in queft of joy.
Our aim is Happinefs; 'tis your's, 'tis mine!
He faid, 'tis the purfuit of all that live;
Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.
But they the wideft wander from the mark,
Who thro' the flow'ry paths of faunt'ring joy
Seek this coy Goddefs, that from stage to
ftage

Invites us ftill, but fhifts as we purfue.

For, not to name the pains that Pleasure brings.
To counterpoife itfelf, relentless Fate

Forbids that we thro' gay voluptuous wilds
Should ever roam: And were the Fates

kind

more

Our narrow luxuries would foon be ftale.
Were thefe exhauftlefs, Nature would grow

fick,

And cloy'd with pleasure, fqueamishly com plain

That all was vanity, and life a dream.

Let nature reft; be bufy for yourself,
And for your friend; be bufy even in vain,
Rather than teize her fated appetites
Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys;
Who never toils or watches, never fleeps.
Let nature reft: And when the taste of joy
Grows keen, indulge; but fhun fatiety.
'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft.
But him the leaft the dull or painful hours
Of life opprefs, whom fober fenfe conducts,
And virtue thro' this labyrinth, we tread.

Virtue and fenfe I mean not to disjoin;

Virtue and fenfe are one: and trust me, he
Who has not virtue is not truly wife.
Virtue (for mere good-nature is a fool)
Is fenfe and spirit, with humanity:

Armstrong,

'Tis fometimes angry, and its frown confounds; 'Tis even vindictive, but in vengeance juft.

Knaves fain would laugh at it; fome great ones dare;

But at his heart the most undaunted fon

Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms.
To nobleft ufes this determines wealth:
This is the folid pomp of profperous days:
The peace and fhelter of adverfity.
And if you pant for glory, build your fame
On this foundation, which the secret shock
Defies of Envy and all-fapping Time.
The gaudy glofs of Fortune only strikes
The vulgar eye: The fuffrage of the wife
The praise that's worth ambition, is attain'd
By fenfe alone, and dignity of mind,
Virtue the strength and beauty of the foul
Is the best gift of heaven: a happiness
That even above the fmiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great Nature's favourites: a wealth
That ne'er encumbers, nor to bafer hands
Can be transferred: it his the only good
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd;
Or dealt by chance, to fhield a lucky knave.
Or throw a cruel fun-fhine on a fool.
But for one end, one much-neglected ufe,
Are riches worth your care (for Nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence fupplied)

Armstrong. This noble end is, to produce the foul:
To fhew the virtues in their fairest light;
To make Humanity the Minifter

Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast.
That generous luxury the Gods enjoy

Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage

Sometimes declaim'd. Of Right and Wrong he

taught

Truths as refin'd as ever Athens heard:

And (ftrange to tell!) he practis'd what he preach'd.

So,

Somervile.

Somervile.

William Somervile, (geb. 1692; geft. 1743;) ein angesehener englischer Landedelmann und Friedensrichter, und ein eifriger Liebhaber der schönen Literatur. Er vers suchte sich in mehrern Dichtungsarten, besonders auch in der åsopischen Fabel; in keiner aber mit so glücklichem Erfolg, als im Lehrgedichte, zu dessen Inhalte er die Jagd wählte, die er im frühern Theile seines Lebens eifrig betrieb und im svåtern mit desto mehr Kenntniß besang. Dieß Gedicht, The Chase, ift in reimlosen Jamben geschrieben, und besteht aus vier Büchern. In dem ersten wird eine kurze Geschich te von dem Ursprunge und Fortgange der Jagden vorausges schickt, und dann von der Wahl, Wartung und Verschie denheit der Jagdhunde gehandelt; in den beiden folgenden geht der Dichter die mancherlei Arten der Jagd, in Anses hung des Wildes, und des Verfahrens verschiedner Natiopen, durch und in dem legten Buche trägt er noch verschied ne Jdgervorschriften nach, die größtentheils wieder die Jagdhunde betreffen. Sachverständige geben, wie Dr. Johnson bemerkt, diesem Gedichte das Zeugniß, daß es durchgehends mit sehr richtiger Einsicht geschrieben sey; aber auch das poetische Verdienst ist nicht geringe, welches es durch Lebhaftigkeit des Tons, durch Abwechselung der Gegenstände, durch Schönheit der Bilder und des Vortra ges, und durch leichte Verbindung der Theile, erhalten hat.

THE CHASE; B. II, v. 51-297.

Now golden Autumn from her open lap Her fragrant bounties fhow'rs; the fields are fhorn:

Inwardly fmiling, the proud farmer views

The rifing pyramids that grace his yard,

And counts his large increase: his barns are ftor'd,

And

Somervile. And groaning ftaddles bend beneath their load.
All now is free as air, and the grey pack

In the rough briftly ftubbles range unblam'd..
No widow's tears o'erflow, no fecret curfe
Swells in the farmer's breaft, which his pale lips
Trembling conceal, by his fierce landlord aw'd;
But courteous now he levels ev'ry fence,
Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud,
Charm'd with the rattling thunder of the field.
Oh! bear me, fome kind low'r invisible!
To that extended lawn, where the gay court
View the fwift racers, ftretching to the goal,
Games more renown'd, and a far nobler train,
Than proud Elean fields could boaft of old;
Oh! were a Theban lyre not wanting here,
And Pindar's voice, to do their merit right;
Or to thofe fpacious plains, where the ftrain'd

eye

In the wide profpect loft, beholds at last

Sarum's proud fpire, that o'er the hills afcends,
And pierces thro' the clouds; or to thy downs,
Fair Coltfwold! where the well-breath'd beagle-
climbs,

With matchless speed; the green - afpiring brow,
And leaves the lagging multitude behind.

Hail, gentle Dawn mild blufhing goddess,

hail!

Rejoic'd I fee thy purple mantle spread
O'er half the fkies; gems pave thy radiant way,
And orient pearls from ev'ry fhrub depend.
Farewell, Cleora! here, deep funk in down,
Slumber fecure, with happy dreams amus'd,'
Till grateful fteam's fhall tempt thee to receive
Thy early meal, or thy officious maids,
The toilette plac'd, fhall urge thee to perform
Th' important work. Me other joys invite;
The horn fonorous calls, the pack awak'd
Their matins chaunt, nor brook my long delay;
My courfer hears their voice: fee there! with ears

And